WP 2005-20
August 2005
Working Paper
Department of Applied Economics and Management
Cornell University, Ithaca, New York 14853-7801 USA
MEMBERSHIP BASED ORGANIZING
OF POOR WOMEN
Reflections After An Exposure and Dialogue Program with SEWA in
Gujarat, India, January 2005
Editors: Martha Chen, Renana Jhabvala, Ravi Kanbur,
Nidhi Mirani, Karl Osner and Carol Richards
It is the Policy of Cornell University actively to support equality of
educational and employment opportunity. No person shall be denied
admission to any educational program or activity or be denied
employment on the basis of any legally prohibited discrimination
involving, but not limited to, such factors as race, color, creed, religion,
national or ethnic origin, sex, age or handicap.
The University is
committed to the maintenance of affirmative action programs which will
assure the continuation of such equality of opportunity.
Membership Based Organizing of Poor Women:
Reflections After an Exposure and Dialogue Program with SEWA
In Gujarat, India, January 2005
Edited by
Martha Chen, Renana Jhabvala, Ravi Kanbur, Nidhi Mirani,
Karl Osner and Carol Richards
August 15, 2005
Abstract
In January, 2005, a group of analysts and activists met in Gujarat at the invitation of SEWA
to discuss papers presented at a conference on Membership Based Organizations of the
Poor. The details of the conference are available at http://wiego.org/ahmedabad/.
Somewhat unusually for academic conferences of this type, the discussions were preceded
by an exposure to the lives of individual women members of SEWA who are themselves
involved in the organizing activities of this membership based organization of the poor.
The technical papers presented at the conference are available on the conference website,
and will be published in due course in an academic press volume in the usual way.
However, participants were also asked to record their reflections on the exposure. This
compendium brings together these reflections, a rich and wide ranging set of responses to a
brief glimpse into the reality of the lives of working poor women.
Contents
Editors’ Preface
1. Aishaben Mashrat Pathan—Joachim De Weerdt, Chris Bonner
2. Babiben Baldevbhai Parmar—Brett Matthews, Martin Medina
3. Ramilaben Natvarbhai Senma—Joe Devine, Ravi Kanbur
4. Laxmiben Gafurbhai Raval—Themrise Khan, Edward Bresnyan
5. Hansaben Rashkibhai Dantani—Karl Osner, Sally Roever
6. Madhuben Maganbhai Makvana—Marty Chen, Arjan de Haan
7. Rafkutben Fatemohammdad Mansuri—Jan Theron, Pun Ngai
8. Pushpaben Jamesbhai Parmar—Edward Walker, Carol Richards
9. Shakriben Shakraji Thakore—Eve Crowley
Contributors
Acknowledgements
2
Editors’ Preface
Martha Chen, Renana Jhabvala, Ravi Kanbur, Karl Osner,
Nidhi Mirani, Carol Richards
3
The origin of this compendium lies in what began as a technical, analytical exercise.
Cornell University, WIEGO and SEWA put out a Call for Papers for a conference on
Membership Based Organizations of the Poor. There were more than 150 submissions, of
which about 10 per cent were selected for presentation at the conference. Full details of the
conference, and the papers presented are available at the conference website,
http://wiego.org/ahmedabad/.
The two day conference was to be held at the SEWA Academy1 training center in Manipur,
just outside Ahmedabad, in Gujarat State, India. However, somewhat unusually, it was
decided to precede the conference with a brief, two-day, exposure to the realities of the
lives of some of SEWA’s members, poor women who worked in the informal sector but
who were also involved in the ground level organizing undertaken by SEWA. Conference
participants, accompanied by facilitators from SEWA, spent one night in the homes of their
SEWA “host ladies”, and spent two days in all experiencing the organizational side of their
membership of SEWA. This exposure was before they went into a technical discussion of
various aspects of membership based organizations of the poor in the conference to come.
The names and occupations of the host ladies are given in the accompanying table.
The exposure was designed according to the principles of the Exposure and Dialogue
Program (EDP), which SEWA has hosted many times before.2 The idea behind this activity
is literally to expose to the realities of poverty those who would analyze poverty from a
distance, or make decisions that affect the lives of the poor. While recognizing fully that
such exposure is brief and cannot have the depth of sustained engagement, the guiding
philosophy behind EDP, confirmed by the experience with EDP, is that it is better to have
exposure and to reflect on it critically, than to not try it at all. Normally an EDP program
lasts a week or more, with participants spending several days with the SEWA host ladies.
However, it this case the exposure was curtailed because of the time demands of the
conference to follow.
The conference papers are available on the conference website given above, and will be
published after peer review in the usual way in an academic press volume. However, we
also invited participants to send us reflections on their exposure experience—ranging from
the personal to the technical. This Compendium is the result. We left the format to
individual choice. Some separated out the personal from the technical, others combined the
two. Some gave more emphasis to one over the other, while some gave equal emphasis to
both. Some reflected on the EDP methodology itself, while others focused more on the
lives of the host ladies. It may seem strange to say so in an Editorial Preface, but the
Compendium presents those contributions in unedited form, with only minor changes of
format from the original submissions. We felt that this was the best way to capture the
feelings that emerged after the exposure.
1
SEWA Academy is SEWA’s organizational wing responsible for training, research and communication.
More information about the Academy’s activities is available online at www.sewaacademy.org
2
Details of the philosophy and method of EDP are given in Karl Osner, “Using Exposure Methodology for
Dialogue on Key Issues”, in http://www.arts.cornell.edu/poverty/kanbur/EDPCompendium.pdf.
4
The numerous comments about exposure experiences and learning made by the EDP
participants in their personal and technical notes are important sources of insight for the
continuous methodological improvement of focused exposure, and for the appropriate
preparation of the host ladies and facilitators. These insights will be applied in the future to
EDPs that are combined with conferences, seminars and workshops on specific topics.
The Compendium is a remarkably rich and wide ranging set of responses of a group of
analysts and activists to an exposure to the realities of poor women’s lives. We hope it will
prove useful not just as record of that exposure, but in raising issues on organizing in
membership based organizations of the poor.
5
Exposure and Dialogue Program, January 19-21, 2005
Host Ladies, Participants and Facilitators
#
1
Host Lady
Aishaben
Mashrat Pathan
Trade
2
Babiben
Baldevbhai
Parmar
Ramilaben
Natvarbhai
Senma
Catering
4
Laxmiben
Gafurbhai Raval
Head loader
5
Hansaben
Rashikbhai
Dantani
Vendor
6
Madhuben
Maganbhai
Makvana
Construction
worker
7
Readymade
Rafikutben
Fatemohhamdad Garment
Worker
Mansuri
8
Pushpaben
Jamesbhai
Parmar
Tobacco
Worker
9
Shakriben
Shakraji
Thakore
Milk
Producer
3
Health
worker;
Sewing work
Agriculture
labour
Affiliation
Lok Swasthya
(People’s Health)
Cooperative
Executive Committee
Trupti Nasta
Cooperative
Executive Committee
Participants
Joachim De
Weerdt;
Chris Bonner
Facilitators
Amishaben Pandya (Health);
Swathiben Vyas (Health)
Brett Matthews;
Martin Medina
Vanlaxmi
Ganeshpura
Cooperative
Executive Committee
SEWA Bank Board
Vice Chairman
Joe Devine;
Ravi Kanbur
Lalitaji (Federation);
Suruchiben (Federation);
Shivaniben (Academy)
Labuben (Federation);
Indhiraben, (Mehsana);
Manjiriben (Academy)
Housing (MHT)
Parivartan - Local
Association;
President
Union,
Proposed
Construction
Cooperative Member;
Campaign Team,
Elected
Representative
Union; SEWA
Executive Committee
Member,
Campaign Team,
Elected
Representative
Kheda Savings
Association;
Vice President;
SHG spearhead team
member
Milk Cooperative;
Member of Coop for
many years
Karl Osner;
Sally Roever;
6
Themrise Khan;
Edward Bresnyan
Krishnaben (Bank);
Anuradhaben Agrawal
(Bank)
Urvasheeben (MHT);
Ishiraben (Bank, MHT)
Marty Chen;
Arjan de Haan;
Ramilaben Parmar (Urban
organizing);
Darshitaben (Urban
Organizing);
Jan Theron;
Pun Ngai
Jetunben Pathan (Urban
organizing);
Shailjaben (Urban
organizing)
Carol Richards;
Edward Walker;
Leenaben (Kheda);
Smitaben (Kheda)
Kofi Asamoah;
Eve Crowley;
Jayaben (Federation);
Kashmiraben (Ahmedabad);
Nidhiben (Academy)
Aishaben Mashrat Pathan—Joachim De Weerdt
7
Notes on Exposure Dialogue Programme
19-21 January 2005, Ahmedabad
Host Lady: Aisha Mashrat Patan
Facilitators: Amisha Pandya and Swati Vyas
Fellow EDP Participant: Chris Bonner
written by:
Joachim De Weerdt
Economic Development Initiatives (EDI)
Bukoba
Tanzania
This is an attempt to consolidate, in a structured way, a stream of thoughts that occurred
between 19-21 January, when I spent 2 days in the company of Aisha Ben in and around
her house in Ahmedabad. It all starts in Cama Hotel, a Western style hotel in the Centre of
Ahmedabad with a group of at least 60 people gathered together. Many people were
wrapped in saris. Most of us not wrapped in saris had tired expressions on their faces,
indicating long international flights. The women were all local SEWA leaders, the others
were participants of the Exposure Dialogue Programme (EDP) and the conference that
followed it.
Even before any introductions were made, one woman’s face had jumped out from the
crowd, because of the features in her face. She brings up the same emotions as Sharbat
Gula, the famous Afghan woman on the cover of National Geographic. One of these faces
that express a deep, rich and very sad history. But, in Aisha Ben’s case, a strong feeling
that this history has been internalised in such a way as to make her strong, confident and
radiant. Introductions were made, songs were sung and to my surprise I ended up being
assigned to the group visiting Aisha Ben. Chris Bonner from WIEGO would join me and
two excellent facilitators would translate and make sure we did not get lost. The facilitators
were Amisha Ben and Swati Ben. They had been carefully instructed to let us experience
the dialogue programme in our own way, not to push us in any directions, not to suggest
any questions to ask and certainly not interpret any of the answers for us. I want to
commend them on a job well done, as they did exactly that. They made you feel as if you
were seeing the world through Aisha Ben’s eyes, rather than through their eyes.
The next day we drove to one of the slum areas and went to Aisha Ben’s house. A little
house, where the bedroom doubles up as a living room and the kitchen is in the corridor
between this bedroom and the washing area. Here Aisha Ben lives with her two sons, who
were both in their twenties, unmarried and working in the informal sector. It was clear that
they had a lot of respect for their mother, even though she lived with them alone and had
separated from her husband a long time ago.
8
One of the first things Chris noticed as we drove into the community was that it was
predominantly Muslim. Of course Swati Ben and Amisha Ben knew this too, but they did
not tell us any such things unless we specifically asked for them. If at all possible they
would not even answer this question themselves – however obvious it was – but rather ask
Aisha Ben or another local person the question. In my opinion, their perseverance in being
in the background whenever local respondents were available contributed a lot in making
this EDP a unique experience. Anyhow, Chris’ very first observation of this community
turned out to be very important. This community had been severely affected by the
communal riots in 2002. Whereas there used to be some Hindu households living there
prior to 2002, they had now all moved out. Except for having created a religiously
homogenous society, the riots had another effect. Many people had seen their house and
belongings go up in flames or being looted, not only in 2002, but also in many other spells
of violence they have experienced throughout their lives. Communal violence is part of life
in Ahmedabad. This makes people like Aisha reluctant to invest too much in her housing.
There is still a feeling that from one day to the other this work can go to waste if mobs
invade the neighbourhood and loot and burn houses randomly. The last riots happened
about two years ago and since then the slum-dwellers have come together and had iron
gates built to close of the neighbourhood at night when communal tensions run high.
Aisha Ben is a SEWA leader in this community. Every day she does a round through the
community popping in at SEWA members’ houses to check on people. She will carry with
her a box containing very basic medicine, for which she got training to use. She is also the
person people come to see when they want to take SEWA health insurance, if they want to
put money on their SEWA micro-finance accounts, etc. She also regularly does information
campaigns in the community. The different hats that Aish Ben puts on every day are quite
extraordinary. Because of the diversity of her activities and, arguably, because of her
personality, Aisha Ben means more to this community than the specific tasks she does. As
part of her daily activities Aisha Ben does a round in her community, popping in here and
there and asking whether all is well, any sick people? Any problems? In some sense she is
what several decades ago in Europe would have been the role of a model parish priest,
someone who is concerned with everyone and you can turn to concerning any problem.
Aisha Ben forms an integral part of this community and any sentiments that emerge from
this particular slum, she will be onto immediately. If people talk of upcoming violence, are
unhappy about a policy, are complaining about one of the middlemen, seem to be getting a
particular disease more frequently than normal, etc. It is clear that people trust her with
more sensitive information and confide in her. If someone needed to know anything in this
community, they would have to talk to Aisha Ben, she may well be better informed of what
people are thinking than the ‘official’ local leaders.
Aisha Ben took us round and showed us what was going on in her community on an
average day. Because she is part and parcel of this community and her work is so integrated
in its day-to-day functioning the line between learning about the community and learning
about Aisha Ben and SEWA’s work was very thin, not to say non-existent. In the 2 days we
spent there we saw Aisha as the pharmacist, Aisha as the social worker, Aisha as the
councillor, Aisha as the teacher, Aisha as the mother, Aisha as the friend and many more
functions.
9
One of the most striking features of the economy in this area is the sheer size of the
informal economy. As we dashed in and out of houses, up and down stairs and alleyways,
we would see the informal economy thriving everywhere: women sewing school uniforms,
small children rolling incense sticks, men doing embroidery, families making kites and
flags for festival, women carrying bunches of recently rolled local cigarettes to a
middleman, etc.
As I live and work in Tanzania this country is a natural point of comparison. Compared to
Tanzania the informal economy in Aisha’s neighbourhood happened in a relatively closed
physical environment, often behind closed doors inside the house. Whereas many tailors in
Tanzania will set up their stalls on a pavement somewhere, here they were working within
the space of their own home. Also striking is the more complex organisation of the market.
Many of the tailors in Tanzania will make clothes for individuals, rather than for
middlemen. There are at least two consequences of this. The first is that the work is more
individualised in Tanzania, someone will want to have a dress sewn, someone their trousers
shortened and another person name tags sewn in her children’s school uniform. The work I
saw in India, in contrast, was a lot more intensive, resembling more a production line than a
privately owned tailoring shop/business. Often you would see people sewing the same
thing over and over again: the same school uniform, the same dress, the same pair of
trousers. The middle man would deliver a huge amount of cloth and they would agree on
how many clothes of what type they wanted to get out of it. This make the whole business a
lot more efficient and I would not be surprised to see that some of the clothes made in
Ahmedabad actually end up in Tanzania (generally the women were not well informed
about what happened to the clothes they sew). Another consequence of this market
structure is that the relation between the buyer and the seller is fundamentally different in
these two countries. Whereas in India it is clearly the rich middleman and the poor tailor (at
least the cases I saw that day), in Tanzania the relationship is more equal with the tailor
having individualised relationships with each of his clients. Some are richer than him, some
are poorer; some are neighbours, some are strangers. But each of the customers only has
marginal influence over the tailor’s livelihood.
The organisers of the EDP did a remarkable job in matching the participant’s interest with
the work of the host ladies of the EDP. One of the reasons I was placed with Aisha, is that
the paper I presented at the conference following the EDP was on informal insurance
groups in Ethiopia and Tanzania. Aisha Ben was involved in a recently set up health and
life insurance scheme of SEWA. Subscribers to the health insurance scheme pay a yearly
premium and are then reimbursed for their medical fees. Interestingly there was no
deductible or assigned doctor/hospital to which the members had to go. One of the reasons
this scheme could work so well in this community is because all claims pass through Aisha
Ben, who is aware of all that goes on. She knows the doctor, she knows all the subscribers
to the scheme and when they are sick she will be visiting them regularly as part of her job.
Pretending to be ill in order to receive the payout would be very difficult under such
circumstances. Still SEWA is looking into designating certain doctors and hospitals to
avoid possible false play and excessive medical expenditures in the future. In Tanzania the
hospitalisation insurance is monitored in a similar way: all the subscribers live in a dense
10
information environment and it is difficult to cheat. There are at least two key differences
though:
1. In Tanzania there the payout is a fixed amount of money irrespective of the
expenses actually incurred. On the one hand this avoids intentional overspending,
and on the other hand this system does not insure adequately against larger
expenses.
2. In Tanzania people insure each other through groups that are completely owned and
managed by themselves. There is no ‘outside’ entity that guarantees any payouts or
offers any schemes. On the one hand this makes the Tanzanian groups vulnerable in
case of epidemics or correlated events. On the other hand, it makes the members
responsible in monitoring each other. There is a clear economic incentive to
participants in the scheme to be on the lookout for misuse. This is not so for the
SEWA scheme, where I do not (immediately) have to pay a higher premium if my
neighbour is exaggerating her health insurance claims.
Another parallel that I can draw between Tanzania and my experiences in India is the
importance of individuals in the development of an organisation. When development
economists think of groups, they tend to think of organisations as being composed of
people with similar characteristics, with some type of assortative matching going on. Both
in Tanzania and India it is obvious that the success of organisations depends for a large part
on its leaders, their charisma, determination and often lifelong dedication to its cause. This
is probably true for SEWA as a whole, but definitely so for the work I saw in the of Aisha
Ben. She is literally irreplaceable, exactly because she is a natural born leader and behaves
as such. Before the EDP, SEWA gave us a tour in the Ghandi Ashram in Ahmedabad,
where we learnt about Ghandian philosophy. It was clear that Aisha Ben had exactly the
same charismatic and simple leadership qualities as Ghandi had, exemplified through his
famous quote: “my life is my message”
11
Aishaben Mashrat Pathan—Chris Bonner
12
Life is no longer a struggle!
Personal reflections
I was assigned to the home and life of Aishaben Mashrat Pathan, with a colleague from
Tanzania, Joachim De Weerdt, and with two SEWA facilitators, Amishaben Pandya and
Swatiben Vyas, both from SEWA health. We spent around 24 hours together, including an
overnight stay. It was a rewarding learning experience and an enriching and humbling
personal experience.
Living
Aishaben is a Muslim woman, living in what was described as a “slum” area in
Ahmedabad. She lives with her two unmarried sons, young men in their early twenties/late
teens. The house is small. The main room is used for living, eating and sleeping, and there
is a small kitchen area for storing kitchen equipment and preparing food. There is a yard
and squat toilet at the back, and a yard at the front with a water supply. The house has
electricity, used for lighting and a television. Aishaben cooks on a paraffin stove, and uses
a pressure cooker – an extremely important labour and time saving device. Bathing is an
outdoor activity. She heats water on a coal fire for bathing, as well as for washing dishes.
The streets are dusty, the houses packed close. The streets team with adults and children.
There are goats in this neighbourhood and cows nearby. Men and old people can be
observed lying in the sun on wooden beds.
Since the community violence of 2002, only Muslim families live in the immediate
neighbourhood. Gates have been installed which can close off this community should
violence threaten again. The issue of community violence was an ever –present thread
running through our discussions, most people having suffered directly through family
death, injury and/or destruction of property. Aishaben herself is a victim. Her son’s hand
was permanently damaged when a petrol tanker blew up. In previous violence her house
was burned.
People we met did not blame their Hindu neighbours. They were at pains to tell us about
the friendships and mutual support prior to 2002. They told us that Hindu people were
manipulated and/or forced into taking part in attacks. They told us of how they used to live
and work together, but how violence and fear had led to separation. They told us that
SEWA had provided support and comfort for Muslim and Hindu people alike during and
after the violence, and how important this was. They told us that relationships were
improving, healing was taking place, but apprehension and fear remains. I marveled at their
positive approach, their lack of bitterness, the seeming lack of a need for retribution,
confrontation or aggression. I reflected on my own country, where the damage of apartheid
runs deep, and where current high levels of crime may have their roots in apartheid
resistance and violence.
13
Working
Aishaben is a SEWA community health care worker and an executive member of SEWA
Health Cooperative. She is also a SEWA organizer and SEWA insurance “agent”- and
many other things. She is an important source of support for women in her community. She
is a single mother, running a three- person household.
Aishaben rises early in the morning to draw and heat water for bathing, cooking and
cleaning. She has trained her sons to help her in some of these tasks – an unusual situation
in a community where domestic work is a female duty and generally where, “women do
most of the work”. Once she has prepared breakfast, cooked lunch for her sons, cleaned the
house and dishes, bathed and dressed she is ready for her SEWA work.
As we arrived at her house, a SEWA member entered. She was welcomed and immediately
attended to. She wanted medicines for her stomach problems. She brought a cheque from
the SEWA insurance scheme, following the hospitalization of her child. Aishaben took the
cheques and promised to cash it for her at SEWA bank – one of the services she provides.
Aishaben packed her bag with medicines (natural products and non-scheduled drugs) ready
to go on a small part of her round. We stopped to talk to many SEWA members. Some
purchased Aishaben’s medicines. Some asked for advice on health problems, including
gynecological problems, not openly discussed between men and women. Some talked
about the domestic violence they were subjected to by their husbands. Many talked about
back- ache and chest problems experienced due to their work with sewing machines,
rolling incense sticks. We were told how the rolling boards designed by SEWA for rolling
incense sticks had helped reduce back problems amongst incense stick rollers.
We stopped and called women together. Aishaben and a voluntary SEWA organizer, took
out charts and posters. A health education session began. The crowd gathered as Aishaben
explained the importance of good nutrition to the women (and children). This was a
demonstration for us, but health education is an important part of her work. She regularly
arranges “classes” in different parts of her constituency, in houses, open spaces or other
suitable venues.
Aishben also explained to us how, through SEWA health, she organizes regular “camps” in
the community. Camps focus on a particular health problem, such as eye care or
tuberculosis (TB). Doctors and health workers visit the community. They examine, treat or
refer on patients. Aishaben may then go with women to the clinics and hospitals. In this
way larger numbers of women have access to pro-active health care in a supportive,
affordable and culturally acceptable manner.
14
Struggle
Aishaben has had a life of hardship- as a poor person, as a woman and a single parent. Her
early family circumstances belied the rigorous codes of conduct required of Muslim
women and men. She was the product of a broken family and suffered harassment at the
hands of men close to the family. Married as a teenager, her husband, a gambler, eventually
left her to bring up their two boys alone. From her late childhood, she has always had to
work to support herself, and has been a domestic worker and a garment worker in earlier
days.
In addition to her sons, Aishaben has two main support pillars in her life – SEWA and her
religion. During the community violence of the mid-eighties she joined SEWA. SEWA was
providing help to the community and its victims. She was encouraged by Miraiben
(currently coordinating social security in SEWA) to train as a community health worker.
Despite her lack of confidence she took the plunge. She says that SEWA changed her life
and now, “I no longer have to struggle”.
What struck me was how differently we perceive material/economic struggle. How
differently we define need. How different are the expectations of the poor and the “rich”.
How easily one develops a comfort level where the norm includes indoor, hot and cold
running water with flush toilets, bath/showers, the privacy of a bedroom, modern
appliances such as electric stoves, fridges and washing machines and now computers with
internet connectivity. Whilst Aishaben’s small but regular income from SEWA, and now
the income of her two sons (both working for small, employers in community/home-based
embroider/sewing workshops) must mean that her economic position has improved, her
life, from my perspective, remains one of ongoing economic and personal struggle.
What struck me was how I, with my long experience in working in trade unions and of
being in worker houses and communities in South Africa, have become increasingly
removed from this base. It reminded me how important it was, to experience from time to
time, the lives of those one professes to study, support or work with in organizational and
political struggle.
As a person; as a leader
When our team of participants and facilitators discussed our experiences, it was Aishaben
that dominated our immediate impressions. The intersection of her personal qualities of
quiet strength, determination, loyalty, listening skills and interpersonal skills, with the
community and grassroots organizational approach of SEWA, has resulted in a remarkable
woman community leader. “Where does SEWA find leaders like this?” asked my fellow
participant.
15
“Technical” Reflections
I would like to look at three areas of particular interest to my own work as the coordinator
of the Organisation and Representation Programme of WIEGO:
ƒ Economic life in the community: informal work
ƒ Health care for informal workers
ƒ Organising informal workers
Economic life in the community
Informal work
The community provided a microcosm of an informal urban economy. The community,
and in many, many cases the home, was the workplace. What I read about in theory became
a reality. From our brief walk- about it seemed that almost every home was the site of
informal, survivalist economic activities. Many women and to a lesser extent men, were
engaged in informal work, as were many children. Given India’s large informal workforce
(93% of total employment, agriculture included), this is not surprising. Perhaps in this
community, where religious and cultural mores frown on women working outside their
homes, the percentage could be even larger?
The range of informal work and employment status we saw was considerable. Work spans
a number of different sectors, with garment and other sewing being the most common
production work. As Ahmedabad once housed a thriving formal textile and garment
industry, this makes sense. It includes waged workers in informal jobs; workers in
disguised or ambiguous, triangular “employment relationships” working through an agent
or middleman; workers in (unpaid) informal jobs in family “businesses”; workers who did
more than one job with similar or differing employment relations; own account workers.
People are engaged in production, retail and service activities.
Many women work in their homes. They typically work very long hours, late into the night,
after completing household jobs, interspersed with child-care and cooking. Payment is by
piece (garments) or per 1000 (incense sticks). Daily earnings were reported as around INR
30-40. Middlemen supplied the raw materials for production of incense sticks and beedi
cigarettes. They supplied the materials to be sewn for garment/textile work, but workers
supplied the thread, electricity and the sewing machine, thus reducing their incomes.
Typically, women sewing at home do not know who the end user or real employer is. It is
therefore difficult for them to negotiate increases collectively.
Often work is “shared” with children. This was particularly noticeable in the case of
incense stick production where children took over from mothers after school (if they
attended school).
16
Doing the Rounds- Informal Work Observed
Sector
Garment &
Textile
Incense stick
Beedi
cigarettes
Retail
Work
Hand embroidery
Workplace
Small
workshop
Home
Sewing
children’s clothing from
cut pieces
Finishing/sewing
flags
Assembling
garlands and bracelets
Rolling incense sticks
Home
Rolling beedi cigarettes
Home
Selling paan, beedi &
other small items
Selling paan, beedi &
other small items
Selling vegetables from
mobile cart
Selling hardware from
mobile cart
Selling vegetables &
goods
Delivering milk
Moulding, finishing
metal cooking products
from blanks
Collecting and sorting
(mixed waste)
Home
Home
Home
Employment Relationship
Exists-employer pays time based wages
Triangular employment relationship.
User unknown. Work supplied through
middleman who pays piece rate.
Triangular employment relationship.
As above.
Triangular employment relationship.
As above
Triangular employment relationship.
As above. Minimum rate and certain
social benefits are negotiated &
provided through a tri-partite board
Triangular employment relationship.
As above. Minimum rate etc as above.
Own account /family business
Open spacestall
Street
Own account
Street
Own account/ employed?
Open spacestall
Street
Workshop
Own account / employed ?
Home and
open space
? own account/ contract
Sorting plastic waste
Warehouse
Owner & waged employees
Food /
hospitality
Transport
Preparing and selling
food for children
Auto –Rickshaw driving
Home
Own account
Own account
Health care
Advice, selling
medicines, referrals,
health education
Teaching
Islamic religion
Open space/
streets
Home,
homes,
community
spaces
Home
Metal
Waste
collection &
recycling
17
Own account / employed ?
Own account/ employed/ cooperative ?
Owner and waged employees
Employment relationship (SEWA) &
cooperative
Voluntary, unpaid work
This may not be entirely accurate as we were not able to talk to everyone, or where we did,
this was done so informally.
Work segmentation
Martha Chen shows a general trend in gender and wage segmentation in the informal
economy in graphic form. Work in this community seems to support the analysis, bearing
in mind differences within and between sectors, community relationships and a host of
other factors, and our sketchy information.
AVERAGE EARNINGS
SEGMENTATION
GENDER
High
Predominantly Men
Employers
Own Account Operators
Employees of informal enterprises
Men & Women
Other Informal Wage Workers
Industrial Outworkers / Homeworkers
Predominantly Women
Low
(Martha Alter Chen, Rethinking the Informal Economy: Linkages with the Formal
Economy and the Formal Regulatory Environment)
Men were the owners of the small workshops we came across- metal workshop,
embroidery workshop and in a plastic recycling collection depot. Men were also active as
own account vendors – at the home, in open spaces and small shops and from mobile carts.
They were in paid employment in the metal working workshop, and surprisingly as
embroiderers working on a time based wage system. We also found men supervising
women plastic waste sorters at a collection depot, with one reporting that he owned one of
4000 plastic recycling small factories in Ahmedabad and was thus an employer of several
workers. We did not meet any middlemen (or women).
18
Women on the other hand mainly worked from their homes as “industrial outworkers”sewing clothing or other textile product, doing embroidery, rolling beedi cigarettes and
incense sticks (assisted by their children) for an agent at piece rates. Others were employed
as plastic pickers and sorters. Some worked on their own account such as those producing
food for sale. Some did a variety work paid and unpaid, for example, one woman was
engaged in unpaid domestic work in her home, did home-based sewing work, varied
according to what was available (at this time flags for independence celebrations), incense
stick rolling as well as being a volunteer SEWA organizer.
Health Care
Access to affordable, routine health care and provision for health “disasters” are critical for
workers in the informal economy. Even where government provides basic health care,
many of the poor have little or limited access.
SEWA has developed a multi -faceted approach to health care provision. The basis of its
effectiveness is the accessibility of information, services and support in the places where
women live and work, and its links to development of broader policy and provision through
SEWA organizational structures.
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SEWA directly provides basic health-care through its system of appointing “bare-foot”
health care workers drawn from its members in different communities. SEWA trains
these workers and builds their confidence to carry out their work.
SEWA runs, in partnership with government, the insurance industry (until recently
government run) an integrated insurance scheme (ISS), a component being health care
insurance. The contribution rates are low, and the benefits modest. But it makes all the
difference should a family member be hospitalized. Important to the scheme are SEWA
community insurance agents, who have intimate knowledge of the members and their
problems and who are on hand to collect money, assist members with claims and check
the correctness of claims.
SEWA is active in trying to keep down the cost of medicines through running its own
dispensaries, producing its own natural medicines and cooperative buying. It is
struggling against powerful interests, and creeping marketisation. One of our
facilitators was a pharmacist running a SEWA dispensary in a hospital. She learned,
that day, that SEWA had lost the tender to continue running her hospital dispensary to a
business which could pay authorities more. In India medicines are cheaper than in
many countries due partly to India’s non-compliance with WTO and patenting rules.
However, it seems that this policy is currently under pressure and things will change. In
South Africa, government is involved in a major struggle against pharmaceutical
companies, pharmacies and wholesalers to reduce the price of medicines- a very
powerful group. It will be interesting to see if SEWA will be able to continue playing a
part in helping keep medicines affordable.
19
Organising and Organisation of Informal Workers
The experience helped me to begin to understand, in a very limited way, some of the
important organizational dynamics contributing to SEWA’s success, as well as raising
many questions.
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Deep rooted, community organising. SEWA has been able to establish real community,
grassroots organising systems. It has a large network of dedicated organizers and
workers deeply embedded in the community, providing the foundation of the
organisation and the movement. What are the factors that make this possible and
sustainable? The environment? The values, attitudes and culture? The systems? Low
costs?
Leadership across the class divide. SEWA has many “middle class” women in its
leadership and on its staff. This seems to work well, with middle class and working
class women being in a complementary relationship, and with workers formally
exercising power and control. Is it possible to avoid tensions, divisions and increasing
transference of real power to “experts”? Is being an organisation of women a key
factor in limiting power struggles and divisions? How important is SEWA’s Ghandian
philosophy?
Forms of democracy. In SEWA, leaders are elected but other systems complement this
traditional form of democracy. Leaders (aagewan) are recommended by SEWA
members/leaders in the community, on the basis of proven commitment and
competence. A committee formally approves the appointments, thus providing checks
and balances. At a national level too, leaders are not all elected. Does this help avoid
the destructive leadership battles that often take place in unions? Is SEWA’s
inspirational founder and other long standing leadership the glue that keeps things
together? What happens when this changes?
In touch with members. SEWA has structures and systems in place to ensure the
concerns and issues of the members quickly reach the “office”, and are acted upon.
Most unions have systems to ensure concerns of members are heard, and that national
actions and decisions are communicated back to members- but there are always
complaints about their effectiveness. Is SEWA different and how? Will expansion and
scaling up result in increased distance between national and grassroots leaders and
members?
An innovative and integrated approach. SEWA has understood the intersection of
different aspects of women’s lives and put in place an integrated approach to meet the
real needs of members- with a union, a bank, insurance, cooperatives etc. It has
extended the boundaries and interpretation of conventional unionism, whilst remaining
true to fundamental union principles. Whilst unions around the world are aware of the
need to change with the times, in some cases formally implementing Organisational
Renewal (Development) projects, generally change is cautious and adaptive rather than
“transformative” - unless circumstances threaten demise. Can unions change
sufficiently to systematically organize informal economy workers and sustain
organisation, or are other forms of worker organisation the answer?
20
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Sustaining SEWA. Financial viability of worker organisations in the informal economy
is always problematic. Formal unions most often rely on check -off systems, not
available to informal workers. Using its community organizers, insurance agents and
members SEWA seems to effectively collect subscriptions, insurance contributions,
loan repayments etc. This provides a base for its viability, which is then built upon
through donations, partnership projects and other funding sources. What makes this
effective in SEWA? How are problems of non- payment and corruption avoided? Does
culture or religion play a part? Is the fact that women are the collectors and payers
significant?
Organising women. The benefits of an organisation of women are obvious in SEWA.
Women workers are confident, skilled and powerful leaders. They do not rely on men
nor are they dominated. The current discourse in unions and organisations emphasizes
gender rather than the empowerment of women, often, in my opinion, stifling the
development of women leadership and genuine democracy. The SEWA model points to
the importance of affording space, and time for women to develop confidence and skills
so that they can participate fully and effectively in worker organisations at all levels.
SEWA is currently concerned about “scaling up”, and how to do this without creating
organizational problems. Some of the issues above will need careful thought in this
process.
Chris Bonner: WIEGO -Organisation and Representation Programme
February 2005
21
Babiben Baldevbhai Parmar—Brett Matthews
22
EDP Notes
by Brett Matthews, MBOP Conference Participant
Visit to home of Babiben Baldevbhai Parmar, Amdupura, Ahmedabad.
Trupti Nasta Catering Co-operative
EDP dated Jan. 18-19, 2004
Attending:
Babiben Baldevbhai Parmar (Trupti Nasta Catering Co-operative)
Martin Medina (conference participant)
Brett Matthews (conference participant)
Shivaniben (SEWA Academy)
Suruchiben (SEWA Co-operative Federation)
Technical/analytical
As a specialist in rural microfinance specialist from the credit union movement, I was
interested in comparing the SEWA experience to the experience in Cambodia where I
work. NGOs in Cambodia are trying to build self-reliant co-operative type ‘village banks’
and ‘self-help groups’ and are instead reinventing dependency due to problems with a
number of special problems: high levels of illiteracy (especially among women), strong
patron-client dependencies and low levels of social trust. Are SEWA’s co-operatives
evolving towards a more self-reliant model?
Kalima Rose in her book Where Women Are Leaders: The SEWA Movement in India
notes similar problems with co-operative development in rural Gujarat, and discusses the
priority placed by SEWA on building effective women’s leadership in response.
Babiben makes an interesting case study in female leadership. Now in her 40s, she was
married at age 11 to an 18-year old husband, she has always held strong and individualistic
opinions. However, for many years her self-esteem was very low due to her limited
education, low social status and lack of economic power. She did not feel comfortable
walking on the streets or talking to other people in the community – even her neighbours.
The defining moment in her emergence as a leader was when she was accepted in the
Trupti Nasta Catering Co-op. Her husband objected to her travelling to Mumbai for a
cooking course, but she eventually persuaded him to agree. That decision proved crucial
for their family. Since he was laid off from a garment factory a few years ago he hasn’t
worked. Her income has been the family’s sole support.
Membership in the co-op meant meetings, and in this co-op all members were expected to
speak up, express their opinions and address each other by name. This experience had a
transformative impact on Babiben. Like most Indian women, she had never heard her
name spoken before. In addition, she quickly found that her ability to think for herself was
valued in this setting; her opinions carried weight. She distinguished herself as a leader
23
among the women in the co-op. She became a member of the executive committee seven
years ago.
Martin & I met with the executive committee of the co-op at their office in the High Court
of Gujarat, where they have the facility catering contract. They are aware of shift in
demand for their products. In the past few years, they told us, they have noticed and
adapted to rising demand for fast food and south Indian dishes.
We discussed delivery channels with them – should they consider serving judges and
lawyers in their offices for a delivery fee? They demonstrated a spirit of co-operation with
each other and openness to new ideas. During our visit the members working in the
kitchens demonstrated a spirit of fun and group solidarity. This is clearly a product of good
leadership.
How does an NGO (such as SEWA, or one in Cambodia) provide key benefits like landing
a contract with the High Court, without undermining the spirit of self-reliance of a cooperative? I was unable to answer this question. As Meas Nee, a prominent NGO leader in
Cambodia has recently observed (in his book Towards Understanding: Cambodian
Villages Beyond War) a few large, apparently random external NGO interventions spaced
over a long time can actually reduce the village spirit of self-reliance. No one in affected
villages knows when these events will happen again, but equally, no one can imagine
progress without them. So, believing they must happen again sooner or later, people can
develop a waiting mentality, rejecting locally inspired self-help approaches that promise
hard work, high risk and no guarantees of success.
The Co-operative Federation was responsible for securing the High Court contract. SEWA
also provided a loan for an office; a loan that later rescheduled when the co-operative ran
into repayment troubles. The first intervention obviously had a decisive impact of the
number and quality of livelihoods the co-op could provide.
It’s not clear whether self-reliance was undermined in this case. The co-operative has done
a good job of maintaining its business with the High Court in spite of competition from
other caterers. It is adapting to changes in the markets. Can it secure new contracts
without the Federation’s help? If it had to, would it? Is there some ideal point of balance
between intervention and self-reliance? This might lead to the NGO performing a
minimum number of interventions in areas that the co-operative obviously has no capacity
to accomplish itself. These are handled so that it appears to everyone that the co-operative
has, at the very least, identified the need and the strategy for moving forward. The NGO
acts only as an instrument of the co-op’s will, not independently.
The entire neighbourhood around Babiben was fascinated by the visit of Shivaniben,
Suruchiben, Martin & I. They crowded around Babiben’s doorway throughout the evening,
even watching as the bedding was arranged for our sleep-over. Of course they are not
accustomed to seeing foreigners.
24
Apparently they were also not aware of SEWA, or Babiben’s participation. While Babiben
has developed as a leader within her co-op, she has not spread the word about it or about
SEWA. It would be interesting to explore the reasons for this. Is she trying to protect what
she sees as a limited benefit (co-operative membership)? Is she afraid of creating
expectations she can’t fulfill? Or is she still uncomfortable, after all these years, talking to
people outside the co-operative?
Personal/emotional
This is the first time in 5 years working in development that I’ve stayed overnight in the
home of a very poor person (though I have often spent shorter times, during the day, in
their homes). I was somewhat overwhelmed by my own feelings about the burden I was
placing on her, and these feelings made me very reluctant to ask probing questions.
Instead, I preferred to simply tell her and her husband about my own life and family, and
let them take the initiative to share in any way they felt comfortable.
Babiben’s priority was clearly to be an excellent hostess, to cook great food, to provide
comfortable accommodation etc. She seemed unable to settle down and never really
seemed to open up. This might have changed had the exposure been longer. I should bring
photos of my own family next time. I also need to have some way to write down key
details soon after the events without being obtrusive about it. Perhaps this means slipping
away early in the morning and writing under a tree.
Babiben and her husband are in their 40s and have no children. I’m also in my 40s, happily
married with no children. This opened an avenue for sharing experiences. For example it’s
possible to engage much more in community volunteer work and activism without the
responsibility of children. However, in interpreting SEWA staff simply described Babiben
and her husband as “issueless” – in a tone of voice that suggested she was somehow cursed.
They weren’t comfortable translating my personal sharing or my questions about the
advantages of having no children.
The EDP process seemed like a very valuable one. As part of my work, I often bring
technically skilled volunteers to Cambodia from Canada. While their skills are very
appropriate for their work, they have no experience in development and little if any
exposure to the developing world. A two-day EDP, properly introduced and
contextualized, could be invaluable as part of their orientation.
Perhaps of even greater value is the application of EDP within complex organizations such
as NGOs, MFIs and co-operatives in the developing world. Frequently I find that their
senior managers become out of touch with the grassroots they are mandated to serve. If the
senior leaders buy into a process that institutionalizes EDP, it could serve as a valuable
avenue for strengthening corporate culture around the core mission/vision, as well as for
introducing fresh thinking about products and processes to senior management.
-- Brett Matthews, Mathwood Consulting Co.
25
Babiben Baldevbhai Parmar—Martin Medina
26
EDP Notes
by Martin Medina
Bavi-ben lives with her husband on a modest –yet impeccably clean– home on an alley that
borders a Muslim cemetery in Ahmedabad. Bavi-ben and her husband do not have children.
Brett and Martin’s EDP started at their home in the morning of January 18th, and ended the
morning of the 19th.
We started our EDP by talking about our respective backgrounds in India, Canada, and
Mexico. We then conducted an in-depth interview with Bavi-ben that lasted a few hours,
telling us about her life, her problems, and the impact of SEWA on her life. Afterwards, we
visited two cafeterias at the State Superior Court, served by the catering cooperative to
which Bavi-ben belongs.
Bavi-ben’s experience with SEWA is remarkable. She confessed that, before joining
SEWA, she was extremely shy, to such a degree that she hesitated to go out of her home.
She also had problems communicating with strangers, particularly people in positions of
authority. She felt intimidated by the world at large.
Bavi-ben joined SEWA and this literally changed her life. It was not an easy process. She
admits that being a member of a coop, she had to participate in discussions on the
management of the coop, and had to learn to speak out. She says that the training courses
she took at the SEWA Academy were invaluable in improving her communication skills.
Her communication skills improved enough for her to become member of the catering
coop’s management board. Bavi-ben is now self-confident, and communicates routinely
with the administration of the State Superior Court on matters related to the catering coop’s
contract to run two cafeterias at the court. In fact, the communication between the Superior
Court and Bavi-ven is not unlike any business that has a contract with the court. In fact, she
is now a manager responsible for the general operation of the catering activities at the
cafeterias.
Bavi-ben’s husband was laid off from his job, and has been unable to find other
employment. Bavi-ven is now the breadwinner of the family. Thus, Bavi-ven’s work as a
member of the catering coop saved her family from complete destitution. SEWA has
transformed her life and had a positive impact on her and her family.
Despite Bavi-ben’s responsibilities with the coop and being the breadwinner for her family,
she is still, according to observations during EDP, mostly responsible for doing the
domestic chores at her home. During our EDP, Bavi-ben prepared every single meal,
washed the dishes, and cleaned the house. Her husband offered limited assistance.
SEWA helped the coop by negotiating the catering contract with the Superior Court.
SEWA also assisted in providing training courses for the coop members, and by providing
credit. This combination of SEWA’s assistance in difficult matters, but leaving day-to-day
27
decisions and management for the catering coop seems to be quite appropriate and
balanced. It has certainly resulted in success for the coop.
The catering coop has been successful in running the two cafeterias at the Superior Court.
However, their main challenge is to adapt to changing tastes in food. The Superior Court
and their employees have requested the coop to expand the menu by offering, in addition to
Indian food, fast food, such as hamburgers, and pizzas. In order to satisfy this demand, the
coop needs additional equipment, such as an oven for the pizzas. They have already applied
for a loan to SEWA Bank. If they obtain the loan, their customers at the Superior Court will
be happier, and their sales could even go up.
Signing a contract with the Superior Court was a wise business decision. In this way, the
coop enjoys stability, gets paid in cash every day, and has a steady income. Based on this
experience they are looking into expanding by bidding for other catering contracts
elsewhere.
I would like to comment on the social dynamics in the alley where Bavi-ben and her
husband live. No foreigners had ever stayed overnight at the alley. Brett and Martin’s
presence at the alley was an event completely out of the ordinary for the alley’s residents.
Most of the residents, both children and adults, came by to take a look at the foreigners.
Interestingly, Bavi-ben and her husband could not turn their neighbors away. The physical
closeness of the alley has encouraged close relationship and a sense of community among
neighbors. There is an unwritten agreement of sharing with the other alley residents. If
Bavi-ben and her husband closed their home’s doors, their neighbors would perceive this as
a snub and arrogance.
The most important lessons learned from my EDP are: i) how SEWA has transformed
Bavi-ben’s life for the better, and ii) MBOPs often need external assistance in order to be
successful.
28
Ramilaben Natvarbhai Senma—Joe Devine
29
Between affirmation and transformation – practices of everyday life
Introduction – Meeting Ramela-ben
Ramela-ben (I was unsure whether or not to use her actual name until she told me I had to!)
is 35 years of age, married with one son and two daughters, the eldest of which works
locally to contribute to the household economy. She is a member of a SEWA cooperative
that secured the lease of 10 acres of cultivable land from the local Panchayat. In total 14
members work on the land carrying out two main activities: an orchard of lemon trees and
a nursery. Ramela-ben has been a member of the cooperative since 1997. Her husband is
employed as a night watchman of the land.
After a number of years of uncertainty and hard work, the cooperative seems to be making
some sort of profit. The land cultivated by the women is immaculately ordered and tidy,
and there is a sense that not only do the members work the land, they also care for it.
Ramela-ben is proud of her efforts and is very much at home explaining how to best care
for lemon trees and how to produce good quality fertilizer. She is also quick to point to the
many new skills she has learnt since joining the cooperative including: operating the
irrigation pump, using various agricultural machines, knowing which types of soil are
better suited to which types of crop. The cooperative is clearly very important in her life.
Not only does it give her an opportunity to earn much needed income, but she also feels
part of a community that is there for her, and through which she solves many of the
problems she encounters in her life.
When visiting the orchard, we interrupted a meeting of some SEWA members and officials
from the local administration. These had come to investigate claims that the women had not
properly declared earnings from the land, and had not offered a share of these earnings to
the Panchayat. In principle, this seemed to contravene the terms of the lease and so
potentially the women could lose the land. The members had come to the meeting wellprepared and offered the officials detailed accounts of all the incomes and expenditures
incurred since taking on the lease. They also pointed an accusing finger at the local
sarpanch (village head) claiming that they had given him the money as stipulated under the
lease, but that he had not passed this on to the Panchayat. His refusal to give the members a
receipt for the money led them to believe that the money had been misappropriated. For
reasons that were unknown, the sarpanch then mobilised other groups in the community to
lodge a formal complaint against the cooperative. During their discussions with the local
administrators, SEWA members astutely used our presence to press their case. It seemed to
work for the administrators acknowledged in our presence that the women were of course
correct, and that the matter would be resolved in their favour.
Ramela-ben lives in a village called Ganeshpura. She came here after she was married at
the age of 17. She lives in a very small house consisting of one living room, another
incomplete room and an open veranda at the front of the house. She has very few
possessions, and claims to know exactly how many plates, pans, spoons and clothes she has
in the house. Immediately around her house live kinfolk related to her husband. When we
30
arrive, everyone is busy to ensure we are treated well. Ramela-ben directs operations but is
unsure how to do this ‘properly’. The initial nervousness however disappears as she goes
about making us as comfortable as possible. Friends and neighbours gather to greet us,
Ramela-ben seems quietly happy at this attention. Others from the same village look at us
from a safe distance. They are well-dressed and have the aura of being important in the
village. Ramela-ben is less enthusiastic about their attentions for they belong to the upper
castes and Ramela-ben is of a lower caste. The social, cultural and economic distance
between Ramela-ben and her upper caste co-villagers is immense. Without having to be
announced or made explicit, it makes its presence felt and enforces its own order. Ramelaben dare not look towards her co-villagers. She moves to a corner of her house and covers
her face.
Ramela-ben was a perfect host and it seemed to me that the responsibility of having to look
after two ‘foreigners’ (a massive burden on an otherwise busy day) was converted by
Ramela-ben into a warm moment of friendship and hospitality. As the day came to an end,
we were sitting in the veranda. It was dark and Ramela-ben was busy cooking. Staff from
SEWA joined the team preparing the meal and the atmosphere was very relaxed. By this
time, the ‘exposure questions’ had finished and my sense was that we were now ‘inside
Ramela-ben’s home’ (despite being an open veranda). People started joking and Ramelaben was happy to play host, to ask about our families and lives. It was also a cold night.
The husband had gathered some wood and burnt it in large cooking utensil that had been
converted into a stove. Everyone cuddled around the fire, trying to keep warm. The
conversation kept people in a good mood, and people were laughing out loud. For me this
was the nicest part of the whole trip to India – it was un-orchestrated and yet very intimate.
We ate together and talked some more, interrupted by neighbours coming to ‘steal’ a quick
heat from our makeshift stove and wish us a goodnight.
Reflections on the meeting
The question we were asked to explore during our visit concerned key events or occasions
in the life of SEWA members. In other words, what event/occasion had been most
significant in the lives of the hosts. At one level this is an important question since SEWA
has a particularly rich history, replete with many interesting ‘significant events’. I don’t
know the local language but observing Ramela-ben responding to Ravi Kanbur’s (my EPD
colleague) questions, my impression was that the questions were difficult for her to answer.
The truth of course is that the big and significant events that concerned Ramela-ben were
the routine issues she had to deal with everyday. These may not be of any great political,
economical or sociological significance, but they are the things that go on in her life day in
and day out. This may seem parochial to many but my time with Ramela-ben reminded me
that it is the seemingly trivial, almost ‘private’ spheres of people’s lives that offer the
richest insights into the way they struggle to survive. As a result of my time with Ramelaben, three key issues came to my mind.
First of all, Ramela-ben is dependent on her cooperative because it enables her to gradually
take control over more aspects of her life. In other words it allows her to have greater
autonomy in her life, greater opportunity to secure the kind of well-being she values. The
31
fact that she has a source of income from her own activity must not be understated, and
SEWA’s ability to facilitate this must not be overlooked. Employment is still the
cornerstone to achieving a sustainable livelihood and it is the one means through which
people like Ramela-ben can build their lives with dignity, retaining a sense of pride and
achievement. There are numerous organisations working with or for the poor in South Asia
(and beyond) who struggle to make any serious impact in the labour market. To its credit,
SEWA is a forerunner in this regard and the attention it places on employment remains an
exemplar for those academics and practitioners committed to eradicating poverty. Ramelaben is rightly proud of the fact that she earns through hard work. She feels her life has
changed positively since starting work in the orchard.
However in meeting Ramela-ben, my attention was also captured by two other aspects that
were almost ignored, left in silence during my visit
The first related to her life within the household and specifically to her life with her
husband. We spoke to Ramela-ben twice about her husband and twice she cried – a sign of
pain and vulnerability. For years she has harboured the view that her husband may have a
second wife and that he has been using the household income to sustain this mysterious
other. She has also taken various loans over the years and the money inevitably ends up in
her husband’s hands, leaving her with the debt. More immediately, both she and her
husband have a four year sub-lease on the lemon-tree orchard of the cooperative. The
husband is responsible for selling the produce but has never told anyone the price he
secured for the produce, nor shared the profits with Ramela-ben. This is a real cause of
concern for Ramela-ben, and it contrasts strongly with her sense of achievement in working
with the cooperative. Other SEWA members know that the husband is selling the produce
of the land and keeping the money to himself, yet feel there is nothing they can do.
The second issue relates to issues of power in the community and specifically to questions
related to caste. Ramela-ben’s life is structured around a set of ‘irrational rules’ that have
long roots in South Asia. These feed into and legitimise relationships that are exclusionary,
dominant and oppressive. The story of the sarpanch and the apparent ease with which he
can appropriate money that is not his, is a timely reminder of how these wider relationships
exert an ‘ever-present’ influence on the way people go about their daily activities. Again,
other SEWA members are deeply aware of the nature of the deep rooted problem of caste
but my impression is that it is not explicitly addressed.
My experience with Ramela-ben and her colleagues was a very enriching one. So why do I
want to raise these ‘negative’ issues in my reflection? The answer is simple enough –
because these are the everyday concerns that Ramela-ben carries around with her. These
are the thoughts that keep her awake at night. These are the discussions that make her cry.
It is a paradox then that these are also the areas where SEWA seems to be quite silent and
powerless.
I do not admire SEWA and its members any less for this. Indeed I am full of admiration for
the organisation and its commitment. What I observed and reflected upon reminds me of
Nancy Fraser’s important distinction between affirmative remedies and transformative
32
remedies for injustice. The key difference between the remedies is that the latter seeks to
change the processes that generate inequitable outcomes while the former focuses on
correcting outcomes without engaging with the underlying processes. Although it is
impossible to make any sensible comment after such a short exposure visit, I feel that
Fraser’s distinction points to a pivotal and defining future challenge for SEWA and its
members: how to nurture deeper transformative change? For an academic like myself, the
relationship between affirmative and transformative initiatives is a fascinating research
agenda. Where are the boundaries between the two remedies? Are they fixed and stable?
How does one affect the other? For Ramela-ben the significance of these questions
however lies not in their intellectual or academic value, but in how they are played out often in silence - each and every day of her life.
Joe Devine
January 2005
33
Ramilaben Natvarbhai Senma—Ravi Kanbur
34
I don’t think I want to go to that temple any more.
I of course consider myself to be an old hand at all this. EDP, I’ve done it before. Our host
lady Ramilaben lives in Ganeshpura. I’ve been there before. We are being exposed to her
role as a member of the Executive Committee of the Vanlaxmi Cooperative in Ganeshpura.
I’ve visited them before. Three times, I think. On two of the past visits I have tried to get
into an inviting looking temple at the entrance to Ganeshpura, but always found the iron
gates locked.
Ramilaben’s house is just along from the temple, it turns out, in a clutch of houses
belonging to the Senma community. Joe Devine (my EDP companion) and I arrive and sit
down for the customary greetings and talk at Ramilaben’s house. We are accompanied by
two formidable SEWA workers. Labuben and Indhiraben, and a SEWA trainee, Manjriben
(SEWA uses these EDPs to give exposure to its new recruits to its own members). Labuben
runs the SEWA cooperative shop in Ahmedabad, which sells the agricultural output of
SEWA members, including that of the Vanlakshmi Cooperative. Indhiraben is the
organizer for Mehsana district. I know them both from previous visits to SEWA and to
Ganeshpura.
As the pleasantries get going I ask about the temple and whether I could visit it (last time I
came it was with my wife, I say, and it would be nice to tell her that I managed to visit the
temple we both saw from the outside). Ramilaben and her husband look at each other. He
says we can try and go to it later.
But later never comes. The program is busy. We go to the Vanlakshmi cooperative and get
a walk on part in a dispute between the cooperative and the Ganeshpura Panchayat. The
Panchayat, controlled of course by the upper castes, gave the land to the cooperative some
years ago, when it was wilderness. Now that it has been transformed into an income
earning opportunity by the women’s hard work (growing fruits and selling plants from
nurseries), the Panchayat is asserting rights over the income. (So what’s new?). It all turns,
it turns out, on arcane issues about the nature of the agreement and the nature of the income
(how the women’s labor is counted in the cost, for example). The matter is to be resolved
by the relevant Gujarat government officials, and they are at the cooperative, going over
the books. Labuben and Indhiraben are making their case, having name dropped us into the
conversation. We were told later that the responses of the officials improved somewhat.
Guessing on our roles, Joe and I played the part well. This turned out alright, but the
fundamental village inequalities are of course a constant threat to any gains that SEWA
may make, although organization of the poor, particularly of poor women, has payoff in the
large and in the small, as we saw.
I ask again about the temple. Later, but later never comes. The program is busy, and
enjoyable. After dinner with the family Joe and I sit discussing with Labuben and
Indhiraben. In my obsessive analytical way I press them both to tell me the three most
important events that they can recall that led to SEWA’s strength as an organization. After
a while it becomes clear to me that the question does not make sense to them. Sure, they
mention SEWA’s response during the riots or during droughts and floods. But to them it is
35
all much more seamless. The Panchayat problem was resolved today, but there will be
another one tomorrow. It’s SEWA’s steady presence that matters, it seems to me they are
saying. An ongoing struggle. I listen and learn.
But I am already chastened. As we finished dinner I asked about the temple again. This
time I ask Ramilaben’s husband, as he is leading me out to the toilet facilities. He says yes
the temple is open now. Oh good, I think, we can go there on the way back. But he is still
talking and what he says stops my heart. So obvious, so stupid of me not to realize. Me
with all my exposures and all my dialogues and all my reading. And my three visits to
Ganeshpura. The temple is not open to him, to Ramilaben, the Senmas or any of the lower
castes. But, he says, I am sure you can go there, no problem. I’ll speak to them if you like.
They’ll let you in, but I can’t go in. That’s OK, I say, we’ll do it another time, lets get back
to Labuben, Indhiraben and the others in the house.
SEWA itself is an oasis where caste is seen as an obstacle to be overcome actively and
purposively. The Gandhian prayers with which each SEWA meeting starts assert this. On
previous exposures I have seen the effects in Hindu-Moslem cooperation within SEWA.
But SEWA lives in the real village world. The realities of caste are seared into my mind
this time. That is also what exposure does. Through small incidents and large, these small
and seemingly superficial visits affix the knowledge that we all acquire through books and
reports, affix it firmly by putting a face and a place to it.
I tell my wife about the temple we both saw at the entrance to Ganeshpura. I tell her, I
don’t think I want to go that temple any more.
Ravi Kanbur
36
Laxmiben Gafurbhai Raval—Themrise Khan
37
Under the Shadow of the Monolith
Themrise Khan
India has always been both a fascination and an anomaly for most of the world. Now more
than ever, India is very much “in”, particularly in the eyes of the Western world. The
economy seems to be booming. Politics has taken a truly democratic turn with the ousting
of the BJP in the latest general elections and Bollywood is, well Bollywood! If there is
anywhere someone wants to be for the next New Year, it’s either in the Rajasthani desert,
or on the beach in Goa. The country has truly a lot to be proud of.
But is this the “real” India? That was the question I was hoping to find an answer for on my
first trip to the country to attend the MBOP Conference in Ahmedabad. My case I feel, is
particularly complex. India has always been and will remain to be the “one that got away”
for most Pakistani’s. We remain to be two warring nations, whose past, present and future
coincide with each other constantly. Relations with our mammoth neighbor dictates our
politics, our cultural norms and most recently, our airwaves. We cry about the cruelty in
Kashmir, yet we dance to the tunes of Devdas at our weddings. We rage about cross-border
terrorism, yet our high society crosses the border regularly to refurbish their wardrobe. We
complain about relaxing visa rules and encouraging trade, yet we are both probably the
only nations in the world who issue permission to enter cities, not countries. A topsy-turvy
anomaly if ever there was one.
Coming from a development background, my academic and professional life has also been
overshadowed by the presence of India. Poverty in India and success stories of Kerala and
the like are the examples quoted in texts, lectures and in our “best practice” examples.
“Look at India”, is what we development professionals in Pakistan love to point towards.
So armed with this emotional and professional baggage, I headed off to “look at India”. At
first glance, there is nothing I could place that was different from Pakistan. Except that the
women wore sari’s and the food was all vegetarian. And of course, the presence of temples
and Gandhiji. It felt strange being in a country so similar to my own, yet one that I couldn’t
call my own.
The experience of spending time with out host Laxmiben and her family, was also
strangely reminiscent. Again, she wore a sari and spoke Gujrati, but her story was so
similar to the ones I constantly came across in my own country. Her struggles and her
efforts to make ends meet for her family brought back memories of women I had worked
with in the slums of Karachi and the villages of Pakistan. One a widow, one whose
husband had left her, the stories of Laxmiben and all the other women we met during the
course of our day with her, were familiar and known.
But gradually as the day wore on, the differences began to emerge. Laxmiben and the
women who surrounded her, were women with very distinct personalities. Not that women
in Pakistan don’t have similar personalities, but these were women who were what they
were because they had had an opportunity to change their lives. They had all had their
38
share of burden and worry and still did, but the most striking quality was that none of them
had to depend on anyone for their survival. They had been given the opportunity to take
charge and that is exactly what they did.
Another striking difference, was the acceptance of women into everyday society. It would
be very rare that one could see women interacting with men and each other with such
confidence and freedom in Pakistan. Not to mention undertaking a task as strenuous as
head loading, something you would not find in Pakistan, where such manual labour is
mostly found in the rural areas in agriculture or home-based industries. It was fascinating to
see the manly (pardon the gender biased expression!) gusto emanating from the women as
they glided barefoot up and down the stairs and over the bumpy tracks, carrying their backbreaking loads.
What was most fascinating for me was the network of trust that had developed around the
simple act of credit and savings. Seated on a cramped doorstep, in a crowded and narrow
alley way at the entrance of the wholesale market, Laxmiben was a bank teller in action.
Collecting thousands of rupees being handed to her by her clients, she expertly maintained
her records and so matter-of-factly stuffed the wad of notes into her blouse. I was more
terrified than she was when under open air, the wad of notes would periodically emerge to
be counted and recorded! The environment of trust and confidence was remarkable.
The irony in this network also extended to the speed by which information changed hands.
Obviously everyone was curious to see who this American (my group partner Ed) and
familiar looking woman (I suppose I blended in somewhat in my shalwar kameez and
eastern features) with Laxmiben were. But the most amusing and somewhat disturbing
thing was that while walking down one of the main roads of Ahmedabad some distance
away from the wholesale market itself, I overheard a group of men exclaim “yeh Pakistan
say aiiyen hain” (she has come from Pakistan), as I passed them by. Freaky coincidence,
fast track information dissemination or was it just that obvious? I’ll never know.
The most ironic aspect of our day with Laxmiben was actually late at night when we finally
arrived back to her clean and simple home after a hard day’s work – and observation! The
whole family gathered around the little colour TV to watch the latest episode of the hottest
soap opera’s. Now here was something even I could identify with – the goings-on on the
Virani family in Kunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, thanks to global cable TV! Apparently
Laxmiben and her family would not go to bed without watching the latest installment of the
saga.
Ultimately however, there was much to relate to and much to learn from. Even though the
time was too short in which to be able to understand this immense country, it was still
enough to be able to draw some parallels. Unlike the massive media projection of the
country through out the world, which undoubtedly rings true in many cases, there is still a
great deal that India has to achieve. There is still rampant poverty, unequal distribution of
wealth and state apathy in many areas. The India we see in the media, is still not the India
that exists as a whole. Despite that, there is an awesome energy and a sense of pride that
pervades its streets and market places. And this is the energy that drives initiatives such as
39
SEWA and its beneficiaries like Laxmiben forward. But as far as what the “real” India is
all about – well that will need at least another trip or attending the next MBOP Conference,
whichever comes first!
Some Observations on the EDP methodology
It is difficult to comment on a methodology as hands on as EDP. Simply put, the idea has
great promise in theory. In practice however, it takes on a different turn. Again, coming
from a developing country, the idea of ‘participating in” the lives of the poor in order to
understand their problems, seems a tad condescending. One is reminded of the fly-by-night
visits of foreign donors on project monitoring where “beneficiaries” are selected to
illustrate success stories, so that everyone goes home happy to know that things are well.
The time frame in this particular case was totally understandable, where a day was barely
enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of life on the other side of the tracks. However, is this
the right approach to sensitize practitioners and thinkers to the lives of the poor? In all
fairness, it is never possible for those who are lesser privileged to host, even temporarily,
those who have never had to sleep outdoors a day in their lives and yet, show their true
selves. The flurry is on to make the guests feel comfortable, to make sure that they leave
with favourable impressions and to be as hospitable as possible, even if it means indulging
in activities they would not normally pursue (e.g. bathing with hot water in the mornings).
Most of all however, it is the knowledge that these guests will probably never see them
again and will never be able to do anything to change their lives, even in the short-term,
that makes the experience all the more forced.
As an outsider looking in, there is a great deal of awkwardness in being part of such an
exchange. More so as being someone who also belongs to a poor country, with similar
levels of poverty and social insecurity. It would probably be more appropriate to have a
camera following the subject for a documentary, rather than some stationary individuals
who feel uneasy as their host heaves a load of supplies on her head as you watch on
helplessly, trying to get out of her way. Yes, as participants following the EDP philosophy,
we too should have attempted to heave a similar load on our heads, so as to understand the
nature of the effort. But how would that help us understand the nature of poverty? More
importantly, how would it help to alleviate the problems of our host? Especially if we
ourselves will probably never attempt to carry such a load again!
These simplistic assumptions aside, the point to be made is that the nature of poverty
cannot be understood by being exposed to poverty in such a manner. Once again, the time
involved in this particular undertaking helps to put things into perspective and one cannot
judge it likewise. However, as a methodology, EDP lacks the subtleties that are required to
understand the needs of the poor which extend beyond providing them with a social safety
net. This issue is even more prominently juxtaposed, whereby a group of strangers from
economically and socially advantaged countries, land on the doorstep of a family to
“understand” their needs and concerns. For SEWA, such a methodology would prove
useful, as being implementers and practitioners, they would constantly learn how to make
improvements in their programs by spending more and more time with those they work. In
40
fact, such a methodology would be extremely useful for policy makers of the host nation,
for it is they who need to know the most how the poor live and what their needs are.
All in all, the EDP methodology is an important learning tool, but for the long run.
Anthropological and ethnographic research would benefit greatly from such a tool,
especially over long periods of time. However, immersion was never a day’s work, rather
an on-going process.
41
Laxmiben Gafurbhai Raval—Edward Bresnyan
42
Reflections on the EDP
The little more than twenty-four hours we spent with Laxmiben provided a short, yet sharp,
glimpse of a woman whose struggle, while ongoing, has already yielded a substantial
improvement in her life and that of her family. As the four of us (Themrise, Anu, Khrishna
and I) descended upon Laxmiben’s neighborhood, I was pleasantly struck by the level of
wealth she had already attained, as evident in the corner lot house she now occupies with
her daughter, son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren. From being thrown onto the
street with her children after her marriage broke up more than a decade ago, this third
house in succession offers several amenities – tile floors, kitchen with gas stove, water
tank, toilet and shower, not to mention a television to take in the evening soap operas! Our
time with Laxmiben was spent across three principal activities: (i) accompanying her on the
morning purchases and helping to prepare the morning meal, (ii) observing her role as
“Bank Sedi” in the Ahmedabad wholesale market, and (iii) shadowing her and her family
in their daily work as head loaders in the market. Laxmiben multi-tasked with a high
degree of self-confidence and her family and peers in SEWA clearly look up to her with
much respect. She carries the responsibility for many people on her shoulders, and does so
with great humility.
Before sharing more about the time we spent with Laxmiben, I think one issue must first be
discussed, that being the conflict I sense between (i) the intimacy of the conversations we
had with her and (ii) their public disclosure after-the-fact as part of the overall EDP. This I
find to be one of the particularly uncomfortable aspects of the EDP, since it seems to
predispose us (i.e., the visitors to Laxmiben’s world) to share publicly what was learned
privately, in the home of our host and her family. To put it bluntly, this seems to vulgarize
– in the true sense of the word – the potentially intensely personal nature of the sharing that
occurs when individuals make the choice to get to know each other – despite language,
social, cultural and economic barriers thrown in their midst. This I see as a central paradox
of the EDP (at least as it is now designed), in that while one is making new friends, forging
relationships, and asking probing and intimate questions about someone’s (i.e.,
Laxmiben’s) personal struggle to survive and prosper, there also exists an onus to “report
back” and otherwise assess the experience for the rest of the EDP participants. It seems we
need to keep in mind that, while we are indeed taking part in this cross-cultural exchange,
the instrument of our own learning is in fact the life of another human being, who has
offered herself as an instrument of instruction. In short, that which is gained through
private conversation should remain as such.
There is obviously a limit to the intimacy of such conversation when it takes place among
one host, two EDP participants and their two facilitators/translators. Yet perhaps when we
open up to each other, letting our cultural guards down and allowing ourselves to truly get
of glimpse of the other’s life, the mutual understanding that this creates among us is
actually the best payoff, and something that, if truly to be valued, should be kept among us
alone.
What did I learn from my time with Laxmiben and her family? First, the importance of
family itself was evident: as we arrived that day in the wholesale market (after the morning
43
meal at home), four generations of her family sat on the side of the alleyway preparing for
the day’s activities. Laxmiben’s mother, her siblings, children and grandchildren all play a
role in making the family business work. Throughout, it was abundantly clear that the
goodwill that Laxmiben had cultivated over her years, working in the market as a head
loader and SEWA labor organizer, had won her the respect not only of her peers, but also
of the shop owners who contracted her family’s labor.
And what labor it is! I can scarcely imagine the fortitude it takes to balance hundreds of
pounds of merchandise on one’s head for hours at a time, or the stamina required to pull a
fully-loaded handcart across town on bare feet. This I saw done by both Laxmiben’s
daughter and son over the course of the day. This one example also highlighted for me the
double-ended nature of technological change. We spoke with Laxmiben about the
possibility of someday purchasing a small tractor or some other sort of mechanization to
“improve” her ability to deliver shipments across town. Yet such capitalization would
likely permanently displace the unskilled labor now deployed in this task, unless new skills
can be acquired.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the day was volume of banking activity that Laxmiben
conducted in the midst of the very same wholesale market. A seemingly uninterrupted line
of women and men queued up to make deposits, loan payments, and other inquiries, all
there in full view of all passersby – a truly public transaction! Deposits were recorded,
passbooks registered, and a significant amount of cash was amassed over the course of the
day, yet there appeared to exist an informal code, nonetheless quite strong and enforceable,
that made the banking transactions – as well as the money – safe. Indeed, Laxmiben has
been known to leave the cash from such transactions with one of the shopkeepers in the
wholesale market for safekeeping from time to time, with never a problem.
There is nothing like spending the night in someone’s home it you want to understand their
life. As we all – eight of us to be exact – got ready to bed down for the evening, it seemed
that we’d compressed a good bit of learning into those few short hours. We’d made a run
to the local produce market, helped to prepare the meal on the family’s living room floor,
and later shared the meal in the same place, observed a typical work day, and finished out
with another evening meal, some tea, a bit of relaxation around the television set, and then
to sleep.
In closing, what I observed with such admiration and respect for Laxmiben, she herself
matter-of-factly takes just part of her duty and, in fact, nothing particularly noteworthy.
This hit home to me the importance of perspective, especially when viewing the life of
another through the filter of my own cultural and socio-economic filters.
44
Technical Note on the MBOP Workshop
The two days we spent in Manipur proved to be an enriching and constructive dialogue,
particularly in the ease with which differing disciplines and mindsets were able to move
forward on a collective level and grapple with how the poor organize to make their lives
better. Having SEWA as a backdrop to these discussions provided a useful point of
reference, as well as a working hypothesis to hold up for scrutiny. Yet the workshop
brought together a disparate set of alternative examples worldwide, some of which
impacted me more than others, and it is those to which I will refer in the next few
paragraphs.
Joe Devine’s paper highlighted the risks that the poor face in assessing the risks and returns
in “switching alliances”. My sense is that there is often a romanticized notion of the
benefits of collective action by the poor that totally ignores patronage relationships that
they have built up over time in order to cement their own safety net and, in our own
parlance, maximize the long-run returns to these relationships. The trade-off Joe discusses
between agency and clientelism is also intriguing, as it also challenges the notion of
pristine associations “of the poor, by the poor, and for the poor”. Note even that SEWA, at
its creation, drew on the non-poor for management and outreach, and indeed today still
relies heavily on them (as was evident over the course of the workshop). The question then
arises as to whether the agency function embodied by these non-poor on behalf of the poor
remains consistent. The classic “principal-agent” dilemma would indicate otherwise: there
may be a tendency to move toward individual maximization, and away from more altruistic
behavior.
Market forces – in particular, globalization, in the context of the case presented by Pun
Ngai and the migrant women workers in China – also hit home that all boats do not rise as
a result of liberalization. In reading Pun Ngai’s paper, access to information (e.g., about
working and living conditions) is both asymmetrical and incomplete on the part of the rural
women making the move into the urban factories. Furthermore, the status of these rural
workers – in that they are neither accepted as urban resident or permitted to reside officially
in the city – has led to the dormitory regime and the subsequent outcome of a “shadow
working class”. It’s not clear that the albeit constructive and progressive efforts being
made by the Chinese Working Women Network will be successful in their attempt to
improve working and living conditions, especially in the midst of a political regime that
does not encourage (to say the least) collective action as such.
We also need to keep in mind that the rural/urban dimension has and likely will continue to
stimulate the creation of differing types of MBOPs. Worldwide, some 70% of the poor live
in rural areas; therefore, to the extent that MBOPs are established, they will have rural
demands and challenges at the forefront of their agenda. In India, for example, where 70%
of the total population and 80% of the poor are rural, MBOPs can be formed in pursuit of
expanding opportunities for basic service provision – particularly to potable water – and
collectively advocate for greater access to the necessary productive assets (e.g., land,
financial resources) to increase household incomes. Future MBOP events may want to
45
specifically address issues surrounding access to land, especially through innovative
market-based approaches already underway in Brazil, India, Mexico and other countries,
that draw on the collective action of producer associations to identify, negotiate and
purchase land for the part of the currently landless or those with insufficient land even for
subsistence. As the case in Brazil highlights, rural-based MBOPs have been quite effective
in mobilizing to gain access to both land and to basic services which would typically be
provided by the public sector. Furthermore, these same MBOPs are progressively
branching into advocacy for other public goods, such as health care provision, education
and literacy, environmental awareness, all with the intent of raising the quality of life and
perhaps contributing to a reduction in the steady stream of rural-urban migration which has
changed the urban landscape worldwide over the past several decades.
Yet MBOPs play only a partial role in improving rural livelihoods. Persistent focus must
be kept on building and strengthening market linkages – obviously in regard to agricultural
production but also looking toward stimulating possibilities for non-agricultural production
and services. Access to information will be a key component of forging these linkages and
advancement in cellular technology and other wireless communication has already vastly
improved such access. Such technology can also help to facilitate private investment flows
into rural areas, as the availability of these and other services, which initially spurred urban
migration, increasingly draw households and their capital “back home”.
Finally, there is a constituency-building element to the MBOPs which should not be
underestimated. Given that they are advocacy-based at the core, MBOPs magnify the voice
of the poor in the public sphere, thereby increasing the likelihood that they will be heard.
But who will listen to them? It’s quite possible that the historical bias against the poor
remains sufficiently strong to cancel out the counterweight of their collective voice via the
MBOP. Only the naïve would think otherwise. Breaking the historical power structures
carries substantial downside risks, as noted earlier in Joe’s paper on Bangladesh.
Furthermore, the struggle for power is ultimately a tug-of-war for access to and control
over assets. As such, to the extent that MBOPs deepen their social capital, they must also
seek ways, both collectively and individually, to broaden their productive capital
accumulation – whether physical or financial.
Edward Bresnyan, World Bank
46
Karl Osner: MBOP EDP and Workshop January 2005 Personal and Technical Note
The one-and-a-half-day-long exposure to Hansaben Rashkibhai Dantani, the host lady of
our exposure group, provided us with the opportunity to see – and to better understand –
how, in the case of the Jadibanagar Slum Upgrading Project, called the Parivartan
(transformation) Project, the state-society linkages are constructed.
Equally as important, the members of the group saw how the institutional linkages are
maintained through the effort and dedication of individual people: The Mahila Housing
SEWA Mandal of 11 representatives of the slum dwellers formed one part of the linkage
between the people of Jadibanagar and the city government of Ahmedabad. Its
responsibility was to raise money from the residents to help fund the project and oversee
the construction work. The Mahila Housing Trust (MHT) formed the second component of
the state-society linkage. MHT provides technical services, assists the residents with
opening savings accounts to deposit their contributions and ensures the good functioning of
the project.
The immersion experience thus served as a learning process both for the technical elements
of the Parivartan project and for the human factors that made it happen. In terms of the
expected outcomes from the MBOP Workshop three learning experiences can be
emphasised: they relate to the leadership of an MBOP, the structures that characterise an
MOBP and the success factors in terms of methods for an immersion process.∗
Leadership
The exposure group experienced leadership in two ways: in the person of Hansaben, the
exposure group’s host lady, and in the person of Urvashiben, one of the two facilitators and
resource persons who accompanied the group. Hansaben’s role in the transformation of the
slum had been to organise and lead the mandal. Urvashi’s work as an MHT fieldworker
provided an insight into the experience of a technical advisor and facilitator between people
and city government.
The challenge facing the two ground-level SEWA organisers and leaders, Hansaben and
Urvashiben, is illustrated in Hansaben’s memorable recollection that it took twelve months
until, thanks to the untiring campaigning of Urvashiben, she came to understand the
Parivartan Project and her task as the organiser of a mandal and her task as the leader of the
mandal.
∗
This short Note highlighting three of the author’s contributions in terms of major learning experiences to the
exposure group’s Joint Report is based on the detailed presentation of the exposure group’s learning
experiences (with quotes especially from Part IV Conclusions), which can be found in the afore mentioned
Joint Report entitled: “Life has educated me: Building Interpersonal Networks through the Jadbanagar Slum
Upgrading Project”. The Joint Report has contributions from Sally Roever, Karl Osner, Hansa Dantani, Ishira
Mehta and Urvashi Trivedi. The conceptual quality and power of expression in this note owe much to the
main author of the Report, Sally Roever, who did a remarkable job of voicing the thoughts of all the
participants in the exposure group, whilst remaining faithful to the original tone of each person’s contribution.
47
In the reflection on her experience, Hansaben mentions some critical factors regarding how
to be a good leader:
• Should be a working woman
• Should be very trustworthy, honest and not corrupt
• Should be well-respected and a woman of her word
• Should be intelligent
• Should be able to talk properly to the members as well as to people from outside
Hansaben’s experience and reflection awakens memories of a similar list of points that
Paniben, a bidi worker, ground-level organiser and later member of SEWA’s national trade
union board in 1992 drew up in an earlier exposure: "What makes a good leader?":
• She goes from door to door
• She knows the women
• She does something for them
• She is therefore trustworthy
• She is patient and perservering
• She stands up for them.
The three most import learning experiences that Urvashiben would like to pass on to other
fieldworkers who, like Urvashiben herself, want to start slum transformation programmes,
can be seen, because of their accuracy and absoluteness, as general “practical guidelines”:
• “According to me the most important lesson I have learnt is to do 100% collection of
the beneficiary contribution. If a particular household doesn’t pay the entire amount
they shouldn’t be given connection to the water and drainage pipes.
•
Secondly, all map related issues, such as breakages of houses that come in the way of
pipelines to be laid etc., should be solved before the work begins so that the concerned
homes know what they are getting into.
•
Finally, my biggest advice is not to give up and to be persistent.”
SEWA – a living structure
A second important learning relates to another major issue of the MBOP EDP and
Workshop, which is to get a deeper understanding of the nature of member-based
organisations of the poor and the characteristics of their structures.
In the search for answers we asked ourselves during the reflection on our exposure
experience how SEWA portrays the nature of the SEWA movement itself. – the SEWA
Banyan Tree helped the exposure group to find some answers and gave food for further
thoughts. Instead of using the usual kind of organisational diagram to explain the nature of
an organisation – defining administrative levels and competences in a classical top-down
approach – the 'SEWA Tree', as SEWA calls the banyan tree, reflects a different way of
perceiving the institutional culture of a people-centered organisation. This institutional
culture, based on the banyan tree, might be referred to as a 'living structure'. It is the human
element of the organisation that makes this structure a living one.
48
The banyan tree develops roots from its branches, which eventually reach the soil and form
further tree trunks. SEWA’s understanding of itself as an organisation is based on this
Indian tree: there is the original movement, the union of women workers, forming the
central trunk, which gives and channels strength. The movement’s strength nourishes the
members, represented by the leaves, and the branches of activities. It pushes for a change in
the members’ living conditions and for the growth of SEWA.∗
First, looking at the SEWA Banyan Tree helped the exposure group to understand the
Parivartan Project as one of SEWA’s major urban activities. The group could visualise
where to put the MHT in the overall context of SEWA’s services, as something that is
linked to other branches of SEWA: the SEWA union, SEWA Bank, VimoSEWA
(insurance), and the new tree trunk formed through the development of the mandal.
∗
See 'Tana Vana': Warp and Weft of Life, SEWA Academy (2002); and Martha Chen, The
Spreading Banyan Tree: The Philosophy, Structure, and Strategies of SEWA (forthcoming,
December 2005)
49
Second, the commitment of SEWA’s leaders to this perception of the movement as a
banyan tree, which has many trunks that nourish its growth, was revealing. SEWA’s
leaders view dedication to the movement’s original mission as a personal commitment. The
leaders’ personal commitment influences the way in which they carry out that mission on a
day-to-day basis. This is, what could be understood by a 'living structure' as Sally Roever
pointed out: “the totality of institutions, services and individual practices that influence the
organisation’s evolution. In the case of SEWA it is an organisation made up of individuals
who live their movement’s mission.”
Third, the SEWA Banyan Tree sheds light on the notion of roots, of being rooted in poor
people’s lives, needs aspirations, and strength. Roots link the organisation to the reality of
its members’ lives. Being rooted may be considered a key condition of a member-based
movement’s sustainability.
This idea of rootedness and the notion of having an organisational structure that is built
from the bottom up are related to one of the key questions of the workshop: what
'membership' really means: “In the case of SEWA, the members are the 'owners' of the
organisation: Its leaders, who come from the membership, demonstrate a discernable
commitment to developing strategies for building participation and maintaining democratic
norms inside the organisation.” (Sally Roever).
Methodological findings: Adequate composition of the exposure group according to
the EDP topic
One important experience has to do with the good functioning of the individual exposure
group. This is especially important for short immersions and exposure activities, which
focus on certain issues or specific operational goals.
In our exposure group experience, we saw a parallel between the institutional state-society
linkage between the Parivartan Slum Upgrading Project (SEWA Mandal and MHT), the
members of the exposure group (host lady, facilitators), and the focus of the overall MBOP
programme EDP and workshop. In addition, we saw:
• a personal link (working relations) between members of the exposure group, on the part
of the host lady and facilitators; and
•
complementary backgrounds and experience related to the EDP topic, on the part of the
external participants.
50
The host lady as the focal person of the immersion process
Our exposure experience reconfirmed the critical importance of the host lady for the
development of the exposure group into a core cell in the process of networking – Tana
Vana – among the members of the exposure group and their orientation towards a common
goal. The process of Tana Vana becomes a reality and gets its inner strength and
authenticity because it is led by a person, the host lady, whose life story is exemplary for
the struggle out of poverty and who has given proof of her leadership in the movement
(SEWA).
The external participants as potential pro-poor actors
The two external participants are interested in the specific topic of the EDP and workshop.
They have made the commitment to participate actively in the process of joint learning
from the reality of the lives of struggling women workers, and to contribute their specific
topic-related professional competence and, potentially, their decision-making power with
the aim of strengthening pro-poor policy strategies.
Facilitators as resource persons
The active role of the two facilitators as resource persons goes beyond interpreting and
helping to smooth the communication between host and external participants, depending on
their skills and experience. The result of their work is to help increase the competence of
the exposure group in relation to a specific field of experience (in our case, the slum
transformation programme). The facilitators have a vital function in the Tana Vana process
of linking the host lady with the external participants and vice versa.
The process of Tana Vana as a means of mutual empowerment
The occasions are the Guru of mankind: The adequate composition of our exposure group
according to the EDP and workshop topic was fortuitous, not planned.
Also, it was only during the course of the immersion process and the reflection on it that it
became clear that the host lady and the facilitators are able to contribute – in ways that go
beyond their specific roles, which are necessary for the successful encounter in the reality
of poverty – to forming alliances of solidarity in a sustainable concerted effort with the
external participants.
Karl Osner
51
Hansaben Rashkibhai Dantani—Sally Roever
52
Sally Roever
I. Personal Reflections: ‘The World Underneath’
Welcome to Jadibanagar
Our mid-morning arrival in the Jadibanagar slum in western Ahmedabad didn’t
attract a lot of attention at first. Our host lady, Hansaben, proudly showed us her
immaculate two-room concrete-block house, complete with its own water tap, toilet, and
drain. We were invited to sit down on the single bed in the front room, which doubles as a
small storefront from which Hansaben sells grains and snacks to her neighbors in the
morning and early afternoon. We smiled politely at each other. Maybe we did so out of a
need to reassure our host that we were comfortable and happy to be there; maybe she
thought that we weren’t. In short time she invited us to move out to the narrow alleyway
outside her front door where she had set up lawn chairs to serve us tea. There, with the
help of facilitators Ishiraben and Urvashiben, we launched a discussion of Hansaben and
the Slum Upgrading Project that had made her home so pleasant.
The Parivartan Project
About forty percent of Ahmedabad’s five million inhabitants live in slums. The
city government, called the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation (AMC), has set out to
deliver a package of seven services to those slums that it deems legal and therefore eligible
for permanent renovations. The project is called Parivartan, meaning ‘Transformation.’ It
is an integrated slum development project with a partnership approach, the partners being
the community, the AMC, an NGO, and the private sector. By installing a package of
services all at once, goes the logic, slum dwellers will be healthier and more productive; if
they are more productive, they will earn more income and help themselves out of poverty.
Under the project, each household in participating slums is to receive a toilet, water tap,
and drain. To complement the household services, the city will sponsor the installation of
street paving, solid waste management services, street lighting, landscaping, and storm
water drainage. Parivartan is administered through an NGO. In the case of Jadibanagar,
the NGO in charge is the Gujarat Mahila Housing SEWA Trust (MHT). MHT, a SEWA
NGO, played the critical role of helping mobilize the slum residents and encouraging them
to save the 2,100 rupees necessary to get the services. The infrastructure facilities of
Parivartan are supplemented by other services like health, micro-finance, childcare,
education and skill building, with the help of NGOs.
The Story of Hansaben
Our conversation over tea that morning intrigued me and Karlbhai. We were sitting
in the middle of a functioning anti-poverty project that had been initiated three years
earlier. We wanted to know more. For example, what was Hansaben’s role? We knew our
host was a leader, and we knew she could not read or write; that much she had told us the
evening before, when we first met her. But how did she become a leader? And what did
she have to do to make Parivartan work in her community? It did not take much prodding
before Hansaben spoke candidly about her experience, even though she had known us for
only a few hours. She motioned for us to leave our lawn chairs and follow her down the
alley to the edge of the slum. Next to a patch of grass that served as a community storage
53
area was a small lot demarcated only by a short brick wall and a makeshift roof consisting
of tarp and rope. A goat stood inside, in the shade. Hansaben untied the goat and let it
roam the neighborhood.
Six years ago, Hansaben, her husband Rasikbhai, and their three children lived on
that lot, in a house they had built themselves. They had bought the lot from a middleman
several years earlier, but he hadn’t given them a receipt or official document transferring
ownership. One day six years ago, the government came and tore their house down. The
house was not legal, said the officials; they did not especially need that lot for anything, but
the government was the owner, and so the family couldn’t live there. Hansaben’s brotherin-law had just died. She and her husband were working as street vendors; they couldn’t
afford to buy a new house. Hansaben could either give up, or she could fight back. Her
response was to fight. For the next three years, she knocked on government office doors,
made appeals, and demanded answers while her now-homeless family slept outside in the
open.
Those were her worst years. But her life, she told us, had educated her, made her
more intelligent. She learned to stand up for herself. Now, she is not afraid of anything, or
anyone. So it was natural that she should become the leader of the community-based
organization that would manage the implementation of Parivartan three years later. When
the MHT’s representative for the area, Urvashiben, had arrived looking for someone from
the community to take on the challenge, Hansaben was the obvious choice. Together they
went around to the 84 households in Jadibanagar, educated the residents about the project,
mobilized support, and encouraged everyone to open savings accounts. It was only
because of Hansaben’s leadership in her community that the project could be implemented.
Her story showed us the human element that made the project work.
At the Market
Like poor women all over the developing world, Hansaben combines a few
different income-generating activities to make ends meet. She gets up at five in the
morning to start the washing and cooking. Once her children have been bathed, dressed
and fed, she sends them off to school and turns to other household chores. Neighbors stop
by to make small purchases from her store during the morning and early afternoon. This
earns Hansaben about 150 rupees a day, of which 50 (about US$1.25) are profit. Then,
from four to eight in the evening, she sells jewelry at a nearby street market. We followed
her there after a tasty lunch and short period of rest, walking through the streets in a sort of
small processional that weaved in and out of the cars, bicycles, auto-rickshaws, stray dogs,
goats and cows that fill Ahmedabad’s streets.
At the market we watched Hansaben set up her small tray on the ground, where she
neatly arranged several dozen necklaces, anklets, and earrings. We spent a few hours there,
observing the market activity. Hansaben made 80 rupees from her sales that evening. She
had been selling vegetables for several years, but she figured out that selling jewelry would
be more lucrative because necklaces and bracelets didn’t go bad they way produce did, so
she didn’t suffer losses when sales were slow. Her entrepreneurship would generate an
extra dollar a day that could be invested in her kids.
54
‘The World Underneath’
The next morning, we rose early and watched the slum wake up. Karlbhai and I sat
in our lawn chairs and reflected on the previous day, while Hansaben served us tea and
biscuits and got the children ready for school. Urvashiben and Ishiraben showed us a photo
album documenting the groundbreaking for the project a year earlier. A neighbor came by
and asked us to come to her house for tea; Ishiraben gently suggested that we were busy
viewing the photos, so the neighbor brought the tea to us. We then decided to go on a
walking tour of the rest of the slum, before we had to depart for the academic conference at
SEWA Academy.
The walking tour revealed what the sociologist Alejandro Portes once called ‘the
world underneath’: a world scarcely touched by government, a world in which poor people
must constantly improvise because they lack the sort of rules and security that define life in
developed countries. We encountered a small fruit processing factory that employed a few
dozen Jadibanagar inhabitants. We discovered a spinach farm on a lot adjacent to the slum,
where some of the vegetable vendors from the neighborhood could buy directly from the
farmer, cutting out the middleman and saving a few rupees. We were shown a house
whose residents had built a second story, including a balcony overlooking the spinach field.
All along the way, we were invited into people’s homes for tea. Hansaben had said that her
prestige in the community would rise because of our visit, and it appeared that others
wanted in on the action. But what struck us the most was the social fabric that tied people
together in Jadibanagar. Its residents were poor in terms of physical capital, but rich in
social capital. It was not hard to imagine that this little world underneath would someday
rise up over the surface and become a middle-class neighborhood.
We ended our visit to Jadibanagar next to the old lot where Hansaben’s house had
been torn down years ago. We expressed to Hansaben our gratitude for her hospitality and
guidance. Our visit had come full circle: at this site the beginning of Hansaben’s life as a
leader had begun, and at this site was born the beginning of our understanding of her
struggle against poverty.
II. Technical Notes
Our day-and-a-half long immersion into the Jadibanagar slum sent thoughts about
the informal economy and membership-based organizations of the poor swirling through
my jet-lagged mind. For now I will highlight a few points about the informal economy,
and then discuss briefly each of the terms in the title of our workshop: ‘membership’,
‘organizations,’ and ‘the poor.’
The Informal Economy
The prevailing approach to the informal economy at present is that informal firms
operate “beyond the reach of the law,” and that in order to make them more productive, it is
necessary to reduce bureaucratic barriers that prevent them from formalizing. Embedded in
this approach are a series of assumptions:
• Policy interventions should create less government involvement, not more
• Owners of informal firms or units choose informality to avoid paying certain
costs, with tax as the predominant example
• Formalization is mostly a matter of ‘getting the incentives right.’
55
Our exposure to the Parivartan project – a seemingly successful formalization project –
suggested an alternative way of looking at policy interventions designed to ‘formalize’ the
informal sector.
First, Parivartan is a multi-dimensional government intervention that created
government, community, and private sector involvement in the informal housing sector,
rather than reducing or eliminating such involvement. The experience of Parivartan
suggests that it is not the quantity of policy interventions, but rather the quality of those
interventions, that determine the success of a project. The logic behind Parivartan – that
only by delivering a package of services can slum dwellers become healthier and more
productive – seems to have generated a series of positive effects. Not only did the residents
of Jadibanagar get the services they wanted, but they also perceived a commitment on the
part of the AMC to improve their neighborhood on the basis of that comprehensive
package of services. Of course, gaining the trust of duly skeptical residents required
tremendous effort on the part of MHT representatives, but the residents saw that the
commitment was real once the services began to appear in their neighborhood.
This lesson could be usefully applied in the case of street vendors. In Lima, Peru
(where I conducted field research on street commerce) both street vendors and government
officials equate ‘formalization’ with ‘getting vendors off the streets.’ Local governments
issue ordinance after ordinance commanding that vendors become ‘formalized’ by clearing
out of the streets, sometimes even offering them empty lots from which to vend. These
uni-dimensional policy interventions universally fail. Only those that combine a package
of services – training, assistance with marketing, social insurance funds, etc. – provide
enough support for informal workers to make the transition to formality.
Second, the residents of Jadibanagar wanted to pay for the services they received.
Only by paying for the services would they become stakeholders in the project, legitimate
partners of the AMC. Paying for the services they received also protected them against the
arbitrary withdrawal of those services. Again, a parallel with street vending is appropriate
here. Many street vendors also want to pay – indeed, demand to pay – a daily tax in
exchange for their right to use the streets for private commercial gain. Only by paying the
tax can they defend themselves against arbitrary harassment by police and local officials.
These preferences among informal workers and informal slum dwellers to become
stakeholders by absorbing costs runs counter to the prevailing wisdom that their decisions
are uniformly based on a calculus to avoid bearing the costs of formalization. Moreover,
they demonstrate the fundamental point that remaining “informal” also imposes its own
costs, in the form of government harassment and insecurity, for example. These costs of
insecurity were clearly illustrated in the case of Hansaben and the loss of her home.
“Informality” should not be taken as a synonym for avoiding costs.
Third, the success of the Parivartan project was dependent on the social
relationships developed between the MHT representative who spearheaded the project in
Jadibanagar and the residents of the slum, as well as the relationship between Hansaben –
who played the role of community organizer – and the other slumdwellers. Jadibanagar
might be thought of as a neighborhood rich in ‘community capital’: that is, a neighborhood
in which residents have tightly knit social relationships and in which the community
56
operates as an interdependent unit. This sort of ‘community capital’ is different from social
capital, which is more often conceptualized as a trait of individual people rather than
communities. Parivartan became a reality only when the members of the community each
played their part to make the project happen. It was much more than a set of incentives
imposed from the top down to change individual or household behavior. Policy
interventions may be improved by allowing for the development, mobilization, or support
of such community capital behind specific formalization projects.
‘Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor’
Membership. The immersion process at Jadibanagar exposed us to the complicated
nature of ‘membership’ in poor people’s organizations. Hansaben became a member of
SEWA at the encouragement of Urvashiben, who came to the slum to find someone
capable of leading the community-based organization that would oversee the collection of
funds and the oversight of construction for Parivartan. Her membership in SEWA
probably resembles conventional understandings of ‘membership’ in organizations: she
pays regular dues, she is a regular participant in SEWA activities, and she is committed and
dedicated to the organization’s smooth functioning and survival. That is, Hansaben is a
clear stakeholder in an organization whose internal governance structures ensure
democratic accountability. By contrast, the mandal – the community-based organization
that Hansaben formed to implement Parivartan – consists of a dozen or so women that
Hansaben selected to be the members. Hansaben was not elected, but appointed to the
position by Urvashiben. The women on the mandal do not pay dues, and the community
trusts them to manage Parivartan funds appropriately – and apparently without any
mechanisms to ensure accountability. Yet the mandal has been critical to the success of
Parivartan. Thus, if we exclude organizations that lack democratic accountability to
members and beneficiaries (like the mandal in Jadibanagar) from our definition of MBOPs,
then we may miss some positive contributions that such organizations make to the
improvement of poor people’s lives. Whether membership-based organizations of the poor
are accountable to their members should be taken as an empirical question.
Organizations. Again, the contrast between SEWA and the mandal in Jadibanagar
illustrate the challenge of defining ‘organizations’ in a way that captures their reality on the
ground. While it is important to consider the form of organization that we have in mind
when we use the label MBOP, it is also critical to consider the degree of organization. In
other words, how organized are our organizations? SEWA seems to lie at one end of the
extreme: it has well developed internal governance structures, its various committees hold
regular meetings, it has clear objectives and functions smoothly and regularly. The mandal
is probably closer to the middle: it lacks highly developed internal governance structures
(its leadership was appointed and there are no plans for elections, for example), it does not
seem to call regular meetings, and its operation is linked to a single, narrowly-defined goal
(getting the Parivartan services implemented and keeping them maintained). At the other
end of the extreme are other types of informal sector organizations, which are hardly
‘organized’ at all; they are more like networks of people with a loose common identity who
mobilize episodically for short-term purposes. Yet again, organizations across this
57
spectrum can play an important role in advancing the lives of poor people. An inclusive
definition of ‘organizations’ could allow for some interesting comparisons.
The Poor. Who are ‘the poor’ in membership-based organizations of the poor?
When we asked the slumdwellers of Jadibanagar what they wanted next and how they
envisioned their neighborhood in ten years, they responded that the next step was to
construct permanent roofs on their homes, and that would make them a “normal middleclass neighborhood.” These residents are poor by Western standards, but the standard of
living in the slum had clearly risen substantially with the Parivartan upgrades. Moreover,
the neighborhood felt like a middle class community; the children went to school, the
neighbors coexisted peacefully, and the slum was clean, orderly, and busy. A brief trip to a
neighboring slum in which Parivartan had not been implemented revealed a scene of
relative squalor.
What the residents of Jadibanagar have in common with other poor people who
form organizations is the goal of overcoming exclusion. Poverty necessarily implies
exclusion of some sort: economic, social, and otherwise. Robert Putnam’s bowling leagues
and bird-watching societies were not formed to overcome exclusion. That is the difference
between MBOPs and MBOs. Of course, MBOPs will vary in terms of how poor their
members are and what percentage of their members are truly poor; but all belong in the
same category if they share the goal of overcoming exclusion.
Sally Roever
58
Madhuben Maganbhai Makvana—Marty Chen
59
Madhu-ben Magan-bhai:
Construction Worker and SEWA Leader
Note by Marty Chen
For the past two decades, I have carried out several studies on SEWA and its members in
both Ahmedabad City and rural Gujarat. As part of an early rural study, I lived for four
months in a village where SEWA works. As part of a more-recent urban study, I have
made repeated visits over the past five years to the homes and work places of 12 urban
members of SEWA. But none of these studies involved living in the home of a SEWA
member or taking part in her daily round of work. Last year, as part of another ExposureDialogue Programme, I spent two days and two nights with a tobacco picker-cum-SEWA
leader in a village in Kheda District, Gujarat together with Ravi Kanbur of Cornell
University and two SEWA facilitators. This year I had the opportunity to spend a day and
a night with a construction worker-cum-SEWA leader in Ahmedabad City together with
Arjan de Haan of DFID and two SEWA facilitators, Ramila-ben and Darshita-ben. Both
exposures revealed details of the woman’s life, work, family, and community that I would
not have captured in a field study. And both exposures forged a bond – a sense of our
common humanity - between the SEWA leader and those of us who spent time with her
(and her family) that would not otherwise have been forged.
My reflections on the January 05 exposure revolve around three of the multiple identities
that Madhu-ben, our host, has to juggle each day: construction worker, member of an
extended family, and leader of SEWA.
Construction Worker –
Madhu-ben grew up in a village in Ahmedabad District. Her parents were agricultural
labourers, who would migrate for several months each year to neighboring Junagadh
District to harvest peanuts. When Madhu-ben turned 10, she began working alongside her
parents. At 13, she was engaged to Magan-bhai: a man from her own caste who lived with
his family in Ahmedabad City. A year later they were married. For some years after their
marriage, Madhu-ben and Magan-bhai lived with his parents and brothers. For the first two
years of their marriage, Madhu-ben was not allowed to work outside the home but was kept
busy doing most of the household chores. After some time, she began working as a
construction worker. She would wake at 5:00 a.m. each day to make lunch for the
extended family (9 persons at the time) before going for construction work: she said that
she would make flat breads (rotis) from five kilos of millet (bajra) each morning.
At construction sites, most women are involved in lifting and carrying cement, bricks, sand,
and other materials. When Madhu-ben first began working in construction, she did not
know how to pick up and lift the tin basins (tagara) of materials without spilling them.
She suffered skin abrasions when cement spilled on her. When we visited the site where a
large private house was being built, Madhu-ben and her fellow workers enjoyed watching
Arjan and I struggle to fill a tagara with sand and cement using a shovel, lift the filled
tagara, and hand it to a male mason standing on a seven-foot high bamboo scaffolding.
At larger construction sites, particularly for high-rise buildings, women have to walk up
60
rickety bamboo scaffolding balancing heavy loads or stacks of bricks on their heads.
Accidents are quite common. For six or so hours of heavy work, Madhu-ben will earn 6080 rupees (one of the higher daily wages among the SEWA membership). The work is
often hazardous leading to chronic aches and pains, injuries of varying severity, and even
death. Most construction workers learn their skills ‘on the job’. However, gender
stereotyping prevents women from being assigned to and, therefore, being trained in
higher-skilled tasks, such as masonry. So, recently, SEWA started a training programme
for female construction workers to teach them how to do masonry work, including tile
work.
From Madhu-ben’s perspective, and that of her fellow workers, the main problem is that
they are not likely to get work every day. Most construction workers in Ahmedabad City
are hired on a daily basis. Finding work is a daily struggle. Each day, in the early morning
hours, construction workers gather at designated street corners – called kadiya nakas –
across the city to wait to be signed up by the building contractors. We visited two of these
recruitment corners late morning on the second day of our exposure visit.
At both of the recruitment corners, there were countless workers milling around with little
prospect of getting work that day. The assembled workers had spilled over onto the street.
At one corner, Ramila-ben, the SEWA facilitator, was deliberately pushed to the side by
the driver of a passing motorized-rickshaw: as she explains, the construction workers and
the vehicle drivers jostle each day for space on the road. When I asked the women who
gathered round how many days they had gotten work in the last week and last month, the
uniform answer was 1-2 days the last week and 4-5 days the last month. When I then asked
whether they would find alternative work when they returned home from the recruitment
corner, most of them said “no”. A couple of them, whose husbands were sick and unable
to work, said they would ask better-off neighbours whether there were any domestic chores
that they could do for pay in order to make ends meet.
Turning to the larger crowd of workers that had gathered, both men and women, I asked
why they were not able to get work that day. They all had a ready set of common answers:
there has been a ‘slump’ in the industry since the 2001 earthquake, due in part to the sharp
rise in the price of cement and bricks as well as stricter government regulations; many of
the jobs in the construction industry are being mechanized (notably, cement mixing,
digging, and lifting); and there is increased competition for available jobs from migrant
workers from the tribal districts of Gujarat.
Just after we left the second recruitment corner, we came across a vivid scene of
mechanization in the construction industry: a large water or sewage pump was being laid
into a deep and long trench alongside a major road. A big digger was being used to dig the
trench, lift and lower the pipe sections, and fill the trench with dirt after the pipe was laid.
In addition to the driver of the digger, there were only three construction workers – two
women and a man – at the site. When we arrived, the three workers were scrambling up a
steep slippery slope of dirt with empty tin basins (tagaras) in their hands. Soon thereafter,
they were sliding down the slope of dirt with filled basins on their heads. I asked Madhuben what they were doing: it turned out that their job was to seal the connecting sections
61
between the pipes with a mix of sand and cement. Instead of scores of workers digging the
trench and filling the trench, there were scores of on-lookers: watching the big digger in
amazement or dismay. As one of the SEWA facilitators commented to me: “The machine
does in five minutes what it takes 10 workers to do in a day”. When we turned off the main
road, I saw two bob-cats parked on a side street. This was the first time that I had seen
machines, other than tar and cement mixers, at a construction site in Ahmedabad City.
This scene graphically captures a development dilemma. India desperately needs better
roads and infrastructure – and I recognize that roads laid and paved by machines are of
better quality than those laid and paved without machines. Yet Madhu-ben and her fellow
workers desperately need work – and I know that alternative jobs are not readily available
even though the eastern part of Ahmedabad City where Madhu-ben lives is an industrial
zone with diamond-polishing, ceramic, and other factories. But these industries are also in
a ‘slump’ due, we are told, to a general economic recession. Several of the streets that we
passed were lined by two-storied factory buildings in front of which were countless
hundreds of parked bicycles: these are the diamond factories, the bicycles belong to the
workers. One of the SEWA facilitators used her cell phone to call a factory manager that
she knows to inquire whether we might be able to visit one of the factories, but the
manager said he was busy.
Member of an Extended Family –
Madhu-ben’s husband, Magan-bhai is the eldest of several brothers. When they were first
married, Madhu-ben and Magan-bhai lived with his parents and brothers. Madhu-ben
recalled that, when her husband went to work in a leather factory near her in-law’s home,
she would watch him at work through a pair of binoculars. “We were very much in love,”
she added. But, according to Madhu-ben, life with her in-laws was not very happy. The
family squabbled about her proper role as daughter-in-law: her father-in-law wanted her to
work outside the home; her husband did not want her to work outside the home; and her
mother-in-law wanted her to do all of the housework. When Magan-bhai bought her a sari,
her father-in-law said that she should give it to her sister-in-law. When her father and
brother came to see her, her father-in-law prevented them from entering the house. When
she became pregnant, she had to work as hard as before. To avoid the quarrels, Maganbhai began to stay away from home and started drinking.
After the birth of their third child, Madhu-ben and Magan-bhai moved into a separate house
across the street from her in-laws. According to Madhu-ben, all they took with them was 3
beds, 1 cooking pot, 1 cooking spoon, and their clothing. Even after they established a
separate residence, she was expected to do chores for her in-laws. When her father-in-law
fell ill and was hospitalized, they moved back in with her in-laws for two years. Maganbhai, as the eldest son, had to run his parent’s household. Later, when the father-in-law fell
and broke his hip, the in-laws shifted to the home of one of Magan-bhai’s brothers.
Madhu-ben told us the unhappy saga of life with her in-laws in the presence of her
husband, who did not seem to take offence. Later in the jeep, as we were nearing SEWA’s
rural training campus in Manipur, she revealed a more private and painful side of the story:
62
that her husband had had an affair with another woman and had drawn down all of their
savings and gone into heavy debt to buy gifts for the woman. In my research and travels
across India, I have often been told painful private stories by women I have just met. I
never know quite what to make of the fact that they decide to confide in me, a stranger. In
this case, the private story was told to both Arjan and myself. Since we have been asked to
reflect on our exposure, both of us, with some hesitation, have mentioned this part of
Madhu-ben’s story.
Despite the sadness in her past, Madhu-ben appears resilient and reasonably happy now.
Her father-in-law has died. Her mother-in-law and brothers-in-law live nearby and
dropped in several times during our 24-hour visit. Her husband has broken off the affair
and given up drink. If Madhu-ben hadn’t told us her sad tale, we would not have suspected
that relations with her husband and his family were - or had been - so strained. The
younger of Madhu-ben’s two married daughters was visiting her parents when we stayed in
their home, together with her one-year old daughter. As a grandmother, I enjoyed watching
Madhu-ben play with her granddaughter. As someone who grew up in India, I watched the
easy flow of people into and out of Madhu-ben’s home with nostalgia and longing: the
busy pace of life in the USA precludes such frequent and spontaneous social interactions.
Leader of SEWA –
About 16 years ago, a neighbour of Madhu-ben’s – named Jasu-ben – told her about
SEWA. Jasu-ben had come to know about SEWA through a SEWA leader (agewan),
named Kanku-ben, who lived down the lane. With encouragement from Jasu-ben and
Kanku-ben, Madhu-ben opened a savings account at the SEWA Bank. For six months, she
didn’t tell Magan-bhai about the account. When he came to know that she had an account
at the SEWA Bank, he asked “what is SEWA?” After she described SEWA to him, he
seemed satisfied and, indeed, has encouraged her participation in SEWA. Meanwhile,
Kanku-ben had invited her to SEWA meetings: at that time, to mobilize members and
leaders in that area, Ramila-ben (one of the two SEWA facilitators in our exposure) used to
hold meetings in the area four times a month.
After four years of being an active SEWA member, and having participated in two or three
SEWA training courses (on SEWA as a movement, on the legal rights of workers),
Madhu-ben was chosen to become a SEWA leader (agewan). As a local leader, her
primary responsibility is to recruit other women to become members of SEWA. Maganbhai helps her carry out this responsibility by taking her around to various neighbourhoods
on his bicycle. Madhu-ben claims that she is able to recruit as many as 100 members per
month. As a leader, Madhu-ben has had opportunities for travel and exposure: she
travelled to a city in a neighbouring state to see a slum upgrading project; and she went to
Delhi with a delegation of construction workers to hold a rally and submit a Memorandum
to the Government of India demanding that the Government of Gujarat be forced to
implement the national policy on construction workers.
During our time with Madhu-ben, we accompanied her to a meeting of the Construction
Workers Trade Committee (Samity) at the SEWA Union head office. At that meeting,
63
attended by about 50 construction worker leaders like Madhu-ben, we learned about
SEWA’s efforts with and on behalf of construction workers. SEWA first started
organizing construction workers in 1998 and soon found that construction is a difficult
industry to organize in, for several reasons. To begin with, it is an industry in which both
men and women work. Since they began their organizing efforts at the recruitment corners
where both men and women assemble, SEWA initially tried organizing both men and
women construction workers. But the men soon began to dominate the meetings. So
SEWA stopped its organizing efforts for two months and, when they resumed, began
organizing only women workers. Secondly, it is an industry with long hours of work so
that meetings have to be held at night. Thirdly, it is a capital-intensive industry in which, to
leverage the amount of capital required and to secure lucrative bids, the building
contractors often collude with city and state politicians.
Despite these constraints, SEWA has been able to organize 20,000 women construction
workers since 1998 and to introduce some significant interventions – and policy changes –
in support of construction workers. Most notably, SEWA has played a lead role in
successfully lobbying for a state policy in Gujarat modelled on a national policy negotiated
by other trade unions: the state policy includes a pension scheme for construction workers
above 60 years of age, and a welfare scheme for construction workers and their families
(financed by a 1% cess or tax on building schemes worth 1 million rupees or more per
annum). In addition, SEWA has introduced a scheme whereby construction workers are
given ‘diaries’ to record their days and hours of work: the diaries, which the workers not
their employers hold only, represent the only means the workers have to prove that they
are eligible to be considered as construction workers (the legal criterion is 190 days of
work per year). The building contractors do not maintain such records: they simply tear up
the worksheets of individual workers after the workers have been paid. Like other SEWA
members, many construction workers have subscribed to the SEWA insurance scheme:
which helps cover the costs of treatment if they are injured at their work. Finally, as noted
earlier, SEWA has helped some women construction workers upgrade their skills by
teaching them masonry and tile-work: trained women construction workers are able to earn
as much as 100 rupees per month (compared to 60-80 rupees earned by less skilled
workers).
The organizing of construction workers, and other trades in the SEWA membership,
involves several layers of leaders and organizers. Madhu-ben is an unpaid local leader.
Ramila-ben, who helped facilitate our exposure, heads up the section of the SEWA Union
that organizes those members who sell their manual labour or provide services (one of the
three main categories of SEWA members). Between Ramila-ben and local leaders like
Madhu-ben, there are about 30 full-time paid organizers who organize eight different
trades, totalling about 40,000 members, in the Labour and Services section of the SEWA
Union.
During the exposure, it was hard to get a sense of the division of labour between these
different layers of leaders and organizers. But it was easy to sense that each of the
individual leaders gives strength to the organization and derives strength from it: there was
a palpable feeling of sisterhood among the organizers, leaders, and the members.
64
At one point during our exposure, when Ramila-ben described how she had come to know
Madhu-ben, we all laughed as she traced the chain of connections from one ‘ben’ (sister) in
another part of Ahmedabad City to a second ‘ben’ in Madhu-ben’s area of the city to
Madhu-ben herself. Later, when Madhu-ben described the kind of support that she
received from Ramila-ben during her private crisis, we all reflected on how the individual
and collective strength that are nurtured through these personal connections reinforce each
other.
Membership-based Organizations of the Poor:
Cross-Cutting Themes from the Conference
Note by Marty Chen
In his opening statement at the conference, Ravi Kanbur stated the underlying premise of
the organizers of the conference: namely, that membership-based organizations of the poor
help the poor mediate the process of economic development, globalization, and
technological change. Our question was: How? At the conference, a wide range of
membership-based organizations were discussed, including:
• Trade unions
• Cooperatives of various kinds: production, service, marketing, credit, bank
• Worker committees
• Savings-and-credit groups/self-help groups
• Community-based finance institutions
• Funeral associations
• Informal insurance institutions
• Producer groups
• Village or slum associations
• Community based organizations, some of which represent traditional social
groupings (based on kinship, caste, patron-client relationships)
• Clubs: youth, recreational
In addition to this range of primary groups, the conference participants also discussed
various ways in which primary groups link to each other: through federations and through
issue-based coalitions or networks, both secular and religious.
Given this diversity, how well does the underlying premise hold up: namely, that
membership-based organizations of the poor help the poor mediate wider structural forces?
In what follows, I pull together what I thought were some of the cross-cutting themes of the
conference: keeping this central question in mind.
1. Membership-Based Organization and. Non-Governmental Organizations
Another underlying premise of the conference organizers was that membership-based
organizations are different from other non-governmental organizations. Membership-based
organizations are assumed to operate on democratic principles that hold the elected officers
accountable to the general membership. This is seen to provide both internal
accountability (leaders are elected) and external legitimacy (leaders represent their
constituency), characteristics not shared by other non-governmental organizations.
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2. Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor and Other Membership-Based
Organizations
Renana Jhabvala of SEWA explained that the organizers of the conference discussed
several alternative terms – including, membership-based organizations of workers – to try
to capture what we had in mind: namely, that the working poor need to be organized, need
to be recognized, and need to have a “seat at the (policy) table”. None of the terms we
could think of were adequate so we settled on “membership-based organizations of the
poor”: putting an emphasis on of (not for) and the poor (not the non-poor). There was a
fair amount of discussion during the conference regarding the fact that some membershipbased organizations of the poor, like SEWA itself, include non-poor members. But,
according to SEWA and some outside observers (like myself), this does not make SEWA a
membership-based organization for the poor because the management and governance
structures of the organization are predominantly comprised of working poor women.
There was a general consensus that membership-based organizations of the poor are
membership-based organizations in which the majority of members are poor and the
organization is accountable to the poor.
3. Membership-Based Organizations of Workers and Other Membership-Based
Organizations of the Poor
Given that SEWA was the host and focus of the conference, there was an implicit bias in
the discussion towards membership-based organizations of (the poor as) workers: that is,
membership-based organizations that organize the poor around their identity as workers,
not as poor people or a vulnerable group. As Renana Jhabvala explained in her opening
remarks, organizing the poor around their identity as workers has several advantages: it
helps focus policy attention on the poor as economic agents – as contributors to the national
economy; it also helps minimize other identities – which are often used by politicians to
divide people - such as caste or religion; and it helps bring together people around two
common basic needs – the need to earn a living and the need for a sense of dignity.
4. Roles Played by Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor
As Edward Walker stated in his comments during the reporting-out session after the
Exposure, SEWA seems to be playing three distinct roles in an effectively synergistic
manner:
• Service provision
• Policy reform
• Member engagement
The organizers of the conference, myself included, would add a fourth role to this list:
mediation between the macro-environment and the micro-reality of the lives and work of
SEWA members.
Not all Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor seek to – or would be able to – play
all of these roles. The funeral associations, described by Joachim De Weerdt, play two of
these important roles: member engagement and service provision. Although they fill a gap
66
in the coverage of the formal insurance industry, the funeral associations do not seek to
change the formal insurance industry.
One way to classify membership-based organizations of the poor, that captures some of this
diversity, is as follows:
GENESIS/
DRIVING FORCE
ROLES AND ACTIVITIES
INTERNAL
EXTERNAL
Member
Service
Policy
Environment
Engagement Provision
Reform
Mediation
Poor Members
Non-Poor Members
Outsiders
Mix
5. Trade Unions and Other Membership-Based Organizations of Workers
Another cross-cutting theme of the conference was that trade unions are only one form of
membership-based organizations of workers. The other main legal form discussed at the
conference was cooperatives. Other forms, not always legally recognized, included
producer groups of various kinds, worker committees (as in the case of the migrant women
workers in south China described by Pun Ngai), and coalitions of worker organizations
such as StreetNet (the international coalition of street vendor associations) and HomeNet
South Asia and South East Asia (regional coalitions of home-based worker associations).
Other themes related to the issue of trade unions and other membership-based
organizations of workers that emerged included the fact that a) trade unions of formal
workers have only just begun to reach out to organize informal workers; b) organizing in
the informal economy requires different strategies and approaches than organizing workers
in a large formal factory or firm; and c) trade unions of informal workers often take an
integrated approach that goes beyond just collective bargaining. For instance, SEWA takes
an integrated approach that involves the joint action of trade unions and cooperatives or, as
SEWA puts it, the combined strategies of ‘struggle’ and ‘development’: SEWA is a
registered Union but many of its sister institutions such as the SEWA Bank are
cooperatives.
6. Non-Governmental Organizations and Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor
In addition to distinguishing between these two types of organizations, the conference
participants spent some time discussing the relationship between the two. Many
membership-based organizations of the poor enter strategic partnerships with nongovernmental organizations that provide services, join in advocacy efforts, and/or
otherwise help mediate the external environment. The notable example presented at the
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conference by Celine d’Cruz was the joint action of SPARC in Mumbai with other national
and international organizations, some of which are membership-based organizations.
7. Role of Non-Poor in Membership-Based Organizations of the Poor
A related theme was the role of non-poor in membership-based organizations of the poor.
The non-poor in membership-based organizations of the poor are seen to play two broad
types of roles: internal and external. In terms of internal roles, some membership-based
organizations are self-started while others are started by non-poor outsiders while still
others, like SEWA, are started by the poor with the help of a sympathetic non-poor person
already known to them. Also, some membership-based organizations remain small and
internally-focused and devise their own self-government and self-management structures.
While others, especially those that grow in scope and size, often rely on non-poor members
to provide technical and managerial support. In terms of external roles, non-poor members
of membership based organizations of the poor help raise external funds, frame issues,
leverage policy reform, and otherwise mediate the external environment. As Joe Devine
mentioned at the conference, the poor are often poor in people (that they can turn to or rely
on) not just in power and other resources: in such cases, sympathetic non-poor members
can help leverage contacts, power, and influence. The challenge is to ensure that the nonpoor members do not dominate the poor members or control the organization as a whole.
8. SEWA as a Membership-Based Organization of the Poor
As noted earlier, SEWA is a membership-based organization of the poor in that working
poor women represent the vast majority of its members and the majority of its governance
and management structures. Clearly, non-poor members have played key roles in the
formation, growth, and overall effectiveness of the organization. Equally clearly, SEWA
has worked systematically from its formation 33 years ago to build a whole set of
membership-based organizations that can assume over time the governance and
management of its many institutions and activities. Working poor women represent the
majority of members in the executive committees and the governing bodies of the SEWA
Union and its sister membership-based organizations – such as the SEWA Bank, the
various cooperatives, and the cooperative federation. Working poor women represent the
vast majority of the decentralized management teams that implement and oversee its
integrated activities on the ground.
Given SEWA’s rapid growth in members in recent years, and its plans for expansion, the
conference participants rightly raised – and SEWA recognizes - the challenge of keeping
the governance and management structures both as effective and democratic as they were
before SEWA began its recent expansion. This challenge has at least two major
dimensions: keeping the leaders and elected representatives of the organization fully
accountable to the general members; and keeping the governance and management
structures fully accountable to the leaders and elected representatives. The foundation or
cornerstone of the whole organization is the general members who need to be familiar with,
share the values of, and have trust in the leaders and the organization as a whole. As
SEWA expands, this will require building up the capacity for and commitment to
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membership training and meetings of all kinds on a regular planned basis to reinforce this
knowledge, shared values, and trust.
In closing, I would like to put forward a set of propositions as an alternative formulation of
the underlying premise of the conference organizers (myself included):
# 1 - Without their own MBOs, the poor will not able to mediate the wider environment
and hold it accountable
# 2 – Without MBOPs to put pressure and make demands, more powerful interests in the
wider environment will not be responsive or held responsible
# 3 – But not all MBOPs seek to mediate the wider environment
# 4 – And not all MBOPs are able to mediate the wider environment
# 5 - Most MBOPs will need sympathetic non-poor members or non-poor outsiders to help
them mediate the wider environment
And I would like to second the notion, put forward by Renana Jhabvala, that organizing the
poor around their identity as workers has several advantages as it helps a) focus attention
on the poor as economic agents; b) minimize other identities (such as caste and religion)
which are often used to divide people; and c) it helps bring people together around their
common basic needs of livelihood and dignity.
69
Madhuben Maganbhai Makvana—Arjan de Haan
70
The SEWA Exposure and Dialogue Programme, January 2005
Notes by Arjan de Haan
As many of the other conference participants, for me this was not the first exposure to the
lives of poor people in South Asia. Our visit to Madhuben and her family was nevertheless
extraordinarily instructive, and it certainly made the subsequent conference on
organisations of the poor one of the most interesting conferences I ever attended. The small
group with which I spent the two days in Ahmedabad made the experience even more
special, as both the conference participant Marty and the SEWA workers and facilitators
Ramilaben and Darshitaben added a great deal of personal experience and motivation to the
programme.
Many, many impressions, of course, entered my consciousness during the two days, many
of which no doubt already evaporated. If there was one that appeared most important
immediately after the visit, that gave me most food for thought, was in the intersection of
personal lives and the outside world, of both work experience and the amazing organisation
of which Madhuben is a member – SEWA as an over-arching organisation, and at the core
of our visit the organisation of construction laboures that now counts 20,000 workers, in
very difficult circumstances providing workers information about legislation, assisting
them to be recognised as workers, providing a health insurance scheme, and skills
upgrading, and most recently having registered a cooperative.
Our host lady narrated to us an amazing life story, of relative fortune and upward mobility
at some point in her family history, and subsequent crisis and enhanced vulnerability,
caused by external events as well as the actions of members of her household particularly
her husband, Maganbhai. It might be worth reflecting further on the way such personal
experiences are translated and reported through an exposure and dialogue programme like
this: on the one hand enormously enriching for us outsiders (and hopefully helpful for
SEWA members), but at the same time, as a conference participant pointed out, one
wonders about the borders of privacy – probably very few of us conference participants
would like to be exposed in a similar vein (and, possibly, relationships of power and
inequality are reproduced in the one-sided way in which information during our exposure
was elicited or volunteered).
Our host is a construction worker, living in a small colony with many people from the same
rural areas from which they had migrated. Her work involves presenting herself at local
‘labour markets’ – i.e. the groups of working men and women that are visible on many
crossings in a city like Ahmedabad - each morning hoping to find an employer that will
take her on, which is by its nature very insecure and recently had become even more
difficult. I do not recall when Madhuben started working as construction worker, but it
became clear that previously they had known better fortunes. Her husband had been
engaged in various activities in supplying parts of cars – a large pile of devices that had
gone out of use with introduction of new technologies still present in their home. At some
point they had been able to improve their housing, now a pukka construction of two rooms
plus storage space.
71
How exactly the crisis in the family’s economic situation started may be difficult to trace.
Also, the extent of crisis also would not have been immediately visible - it was only from
stories told by Madhuben in the car on the way to the conference venue that we realised the
extent of her debt and monthly repayment obligations, and that she even may have had to
borrow money for the meal of our visit (the story also greatly surprised us, as her husband
had appeared as very supportive, as for example he had accompanied Madhuben while she
was recruiting women for the organisation). But in any case, Madhuben and her family
have experienced several years of severe crisis, which was caused by her husband’s
drinking habits and an affair that he started with another woman, and had spent much of
their wealth and savings on, which had spiralled downwards into serious indebtedness.
Madhuben’s close association with SEWA, and with Romilaben in particular but the
SEWA sisters more generally as well, while based on her identity as a construction worker,
had been closely linked with this personal crisis. Romilaben had continuously supported
Madhuben in her struggles – in Madhuben’s words helping her to carry on. This support
was partly of an economic nature, related to SEWA’s core mandate, but at least as
important appears to have been the moral and practical support, not least in pleading with
the husband to change his patterns of life, probably playing a key role to keep the marriage
together for example. There is no doubt that such support may seem to be conservative, but
in the environment of poor working women there is practically no alternative, and women
said that they were rather beaten by their husband than be without them – single women are
almost certainly more vulnerable than those suffering from violence within the family.
In any case, it became clear from Madhuben’s personal story that much of her current
personal strength and self-esteem derived from her association with SEWA. Conversely,
Madhuben story illustrates how SEWA’s strength as an organisation thrives on the personal
connections, an impression reinforced during our meeting at the SEWA headquarters with a
group of grassroot organisers. Madhuben’s commitment to the organisation appeared to be
very much a response to the support she had received, and continued to receive, from
women like Romilaben.
The personal interconnections that were highlighted during our visit are remarkable within
such a large organisation. As much as one cannot be certain – in a strict scientific sense –
how much SEWA has contributed to the well-being of Madhuben, one can also only guess
how the nature of the organisation will change while it is expanding. Nevertheless, in the
current form of over 400,000 organised women workers in Gujarat it appears well possible,
at least on the basis of our discussions, to maintain the very personal nature of the
organisation, with poor working women deriving self-esteem from the engagement with
and support by SEWA’s grassroot organisers, and SEWA in turn depending for the
extremely difficult task of organising on many committed women. When the organisation
grows, its democratic and representative nature inevitable changes, and has changed – but
any assessment of the structure should not be restricted to its formal aspects but also
includes the informal interactions and the links that contribute so much to the dignity of
working women as we experienced during our visit.
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Finally, some thoughts on the experience and organisation of the exposure and dialogue
itself. The way the visit was set up greatly contributed to the learning. The small groups,
carefully chosen with an eye on particular interests of visitors, and the skillfull mediation
by the facilitators, all made the experience extremely rich. As I said above, this was not my
first close interaction with poor people in India, and the programme has not radically
altered my view of the world, as a social scientist or in a personal sense - though it perhaps
did change my view was in understanding the rationale of an organisation like SEWA, as
highlighted above. For me personally, and as the only man in our small group, it was
particularly interesting to continue to focus on the views and experiences of women –
otherwise it is almost inevitable that discussions become dominated by men, as indeed
SEWA organisers themselves experienced when trying to organise women in public space.
I believe that it is important to continue to emphasise how small the glimpse – no doubt
biased by the nature of our visit – is that one observes through such a visit, and would
observe even if it was 2 or 3 days longer (in my own field research in Calcutta I was
amazed by the continued confusion about the ‘exact’ life history of even the person I had
known best for 9 months). The way our host’s personal story was narrated at the end of our
visit showed how much the visitor’s view of reality is determined by particular
circumstances, and chance. I also found one of the comments by SEWA participants during
the feedback session very instructive: they found the visitors’ repeated questions regarding
the ‘key event’ in the history of the organisation and the lessons learnt from that very
difficult to answer, suggesting that the complexity and diversity of experiences cannot be
easily be captured in a short space of time. Therefore, it may be important to keep the
programme of dialogue and exposure as flexible and informal as possible: while it is good
– and extremely helpful for us – to organise the visit well, for me the key value lies in the
opportunity to spend an extended amount of time with a few people that we do not
associate with on a daily basis, not to understand ‘the reality’ of ‘poor people’, but to hear
some life stories, in a way in which they prefer to narrate them to outsiders like us.
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SEWA in the context of economic change – some thoughts on people’s organisation
Arjan de Haan
The starting point of the conference as articulated by Ravi Kanbur I thought was a useful
and important one: the question on how people’s organisations mediate processes of
economic development, of globalisation and technological development.3 For free-market
economists, organisation may appear as anomalies, as market distortions; but for working
people they form key links in which they experience the vagaries of economic processes –
in the experience of SEWA leader Madhuben the personal contacts that the organisation
provided, in her own words stopped her from committing suicide, and quite clearly had
contributed greatly to her personal dignity.
SEWA forms a – possibly – unique example of organisation of people working in the
informal sector. Its uniqueness may be more in the fact that it organises people primarily on
the basis of their identity as labourers rather than as poor people (women) – this may be a
core distinction that may have been implicit within our discussion but may have warranted
more explicit discussion. It differentiates itself from regular trade unions by the fact that it
operates only within the informal sector, focusing on and led by women, implying a wide
range of occupations from self employed small activities to contract labourers in
construction (with a very impressive 20,000 female construction workers as members) – in
fact, its basis for organisation may be seen to be the parts of the labour force that has been
neglected by trade unions, in India as elsewhere in the world (typically forming 90 per cent
of the labour force in urban and rural areas in poor countries). While SEWA’s history of
difficult relationship with Ahmedabad’s main trade union (the Textile Labour Association)
is unique, in a way it illustrates a much more common problem, of neglect – academic and
political – of the majority of workers. In this short note I’d like to highlight – in speculative
mode – on the origins and reasons for this neglect, and how these may affect the potentials
of organisation.
The neglect of what is commonly known as the informal or unorganised can be ascribed to
many factors, in ideological, political and academic spheres. First, the informal sector for
many people has been the antipode of modernisation – in fact the modern-traditional
distinction has been almost synonymous and has preceded the formal-informal distinction
(Boeke’s dual economy), and the very fact that the informal sector has been defined as
‘that-which-is-not-formal’ (and debates around formalising the informal sector) despite
being numerically far dominant illustrates the modernisation paradigm. For decades, thus,
the predominant ideology has predicted, or wished, the gradual disappearance of ‘informal’
activities; I believe that even in the face of (now decade or more long) expansion of
informal sector in many countries this ideology has continued to predominate. This
ideology sets an unfavourable scene for the possibility of organisation, possibly quite
different from the oft-celebrated organisation of workers in ‘modern’ factories (though the
opposition against entrepreneurs, and the ways in which workers’ organisation can be
3
In an on-going joint-donor research programme on Pro-Poor Growth, it appeared to be difficult to capture
the impact of civil society organisation: while the impact of institutions generally is now well-captured in
development discourse, this is not the case for people’s organisations.
74
threatened by employment of migrants, remain the same, at least in the case of construction
labourers).
Second, and closely related to the first, political and policy frameworks have implicitly if
not explicitly discriminated against informal activities.4 Many of SEWA’s activities are a
reflection of this: for example, its efforts to create awareness of existing legislation are a
conscious reaction to the policy failure to realise existing rights; the provision of diaries for
recording numbers of days worked is meant to be recognised as workers similar to
employees in the formal sector; and the introduction of the insurance scheme a reaction to
the exclusion of informal workers from mainstream insurance and social protection
policies. The way in which this discrimination affects the potentials for organisation has
two sides: on the one hand it starts from the adversarial position of at best neglect and at
worst repression (as in the case of removal of street vendors, slum clearance, etc.); on the
other hand it also provides the practical entry point of organisation, responses to practical
needs illustrated for example by the medical insurance scheme.
Third, while it is not difficult to provide an economic rationale for the expansion of the
informal sector – as Hernando de Soto has done from a neo-liberal and Jan Breman and
others from a critical/labour perspective – it is not that evident why the trade unions have –
on the whole, despite perennial calls from within to address the issue – continued to neglect
the well-being of workers outside the formal sector. While on the one hand it is evident that
unions have continued to focus on workers in large enterprises; on the other hand it is not
clear why they have not been able – or at least tried - to expand their membership in the
face of fairly rapid reduction of employment in the large factories such as the textile
industry in Ahmedabad, or the jute industry in Calcutta on which my own paper focused.
While the reasons for the neglect might be worth further study, it is clear that such neglect
has existed, and that in many cases this neglect has had a gender bias. SEWA’s growth in
opposition to trade unions, thus, provides an example of a more general phenomenon
related to the possibility of organisation by workers.
While the three issues raised above to me appear worth further investigation, a fourth set of
questions relates to the academic disciplines of development studies and similar itself. To
start with, it may be worth reflecting whether, simply put, labour and employment have
been on the agenda: in my experience in development agencies at least there is only a
marginal interest in labour as subject of study and policy approaches, even in the narrow
sense of labour markets.5 And beyond that, much enquiry related to labour has continued to
4
Policy frameworks of international organisations also might usefully be subjected to further scrutiny; for
example, while the World Development Report 2005 on investment climate explicitly discusses the informal
sector, it remains a question whether it does justice to the sets of activities that typically form the largest
proportion of economic produce, and by far the largest proportion of the working population.
5
As mentioned by Martha Chen, the absence of a Millennium Development Goal related to employment
seems illustrative of a wider problem. The only reference to work, if I’m not mistaken, is in the rather
unhelpful gender-related indicator of proportion of women in non-agricultural wage employment (formal and
informal) – while very clearly even gender disparities within wage employment (formal, informal,
agricultural) might be far more relevant. The lack of development discourse’s attention to employment is
probably linked to the fact that interventions are thought to be distortionary – which the SEWA experience
suggests is not necessarily the case.
75
be based in a modernisation paradigm as referred to earlier, including: the definition of
informal work as, essentially, non-modern and as to be integrated in a presumably modern
sector; assumptions that protective measures (e.g. social protection, with the ILO providing
some but perhaps marginal exceptions) could not be extended to smaller enterprises and
independent workers; lack of data and efforts to collect them that allow meaningful
analyses of informal work (again, ILO providing an exception); historians’ continued
emphasis on aspects of labour in large-scale enterprises; perhaps even the lack of
investigation of organisation around issues and identity of work despite huge amounts of
research into the phenomenon of NGOs including in micro-finance; etc. The point here is
not that there has been no work that has gone beyond this narrow focus – far from it – the
question worth exploring in my mind is why this has not entered the core of the
development debates. For this to happen, I think it is essential that the debates move from
seeing the informal sector as residual, to one that sees it as constituting the core of the
economy in probably all poor countries, but also that the existence of the informal sector
does not occur in a vacuum, but is constituted through economic and other policy
frameworks.
Finally, from my perspective within a development agency, perhaps the key lesson from
the workshop and exposure programme has been to highlight the importance of labour/
work, as both and academic and practical (organisational) category. The development
debates over the last decade and a half has had a strong focus on poverty; rightly so, but
this has perhaps neglected: a) one of the key ways in which poverty is caused (i.e. labour
markets), and b) the question whether ‘poor people’ (or even ‘poor women’) is the relevant
category along which people are likely to organise and collectively aim to improve their
well-being.
76
Rafkutben Fatemohammdad Mansuri—Jan Theron
77
A NOTE ON MY STAY WITH A HOMEWORKER IN URBAN AHMEDABAD
Jan Theron
I have approached the writing of this report with some trepidation. That is because,
although I have unquestionably been enriched by my stay at the home of one of SEWA’s
members, on 18 and 19 January this year, I do not feel entirely free to reflect critically on
the experience. Partly that is because I do not want to seem ungrateful. Partly it is because
there is a degree of hype about both the Exposure and Dialogue Programme (EDP) and
SEWA that I was not altogether comfortable with. But mostly it is because the period of
exposure was short, and we were reliant on translation. So inevitably one risks being
superficial, if not getting the wrong end of the stick altogether.
I tried to verify and check certain observations during the remainder of my stay in
Ahmedabad. I have therefore included in this report things I observed or found out up until
the day of my departure. Even so, I am left with more questions than answers. In particular
I am left with questions about the nature of SEWA, and its significance for trade union
organisation, and the organisation of workers in the informal economy. This of course
relates to the theme of the conference I was in Ahmedabad to address.
One set of questions relates to the nature of SEWA as a hybrid organisation. In what
follows I consider the different aspects of SEWA I encountered, which are by no means the
entirety of the organisation. But the overriding question is one I had in my mind on my
arrival. It is as follows: to what extent are the achievements of SEWA bound up with
Indian particularities? Or with the particularities of Gujarat state, where the overwhelming
bulk of its members are located?
Our first organised activity was a visit to the Gandhi ashram. This, for me, under-scored the
validity of this overriding question. Clearly Gandhi is held in particular esteem in Gujarat,
his home state. Gandhi was also closely associated with a particular tradition of trade union
organisation, in the textile mills of Ahmedabad. The roots of SEWA, we later learned, can
be traced back to the organisation of self-employed women into a branch of the Textile
Workers Association, and the closure of the textile mills in the 1980s. Moreover the
significance of Gandhian philosophy for SEWA was also emphasized at various points,
during this visit and subsequently. Certain features of this philosophy and this tradition of
trade union organisation must be noted at the outset. One is an apparent reluctance to adopt
militant or confrontational strategies vis a vis employers. Another is an extremely cautious
attitude towards politics, and political organisation.
From the ashram we went to Banascraft shop. This, we were told, was a retail outlet for
products (mainly garments) made by SEWA members. The labels on the items confirmed
this. “Sells products made by women artisans from earthquake affected region of
Banaskantha region…SEWA organises craftwomen and helps them towards economic selfreliance…” it says on one side of the label. Clearly, therefore, these are products targeted at
the buyer with a social consciousness. The statement on the other side of the label
78
emphasizes this: “65 percent of your money directly goes to women artisans.” I shall
consider certain implications of this statement below.
That evening we were received in the plush environs of the Cama Park Hotel, where we
were each introduced to the members who were to be our hosts, and the SEWU members
who were to accompany us. My host was Rafikunissa Fateh Mohammed Mansuri
(Rafikunben). She was described by SEWA as a garment worker, making ready-made
garments. I would categorise her as a homeworker. By homework, I refer to work
undertaken at a person’s home on contract, either for an employer putting out work to the
homeworker directly, or more usually via an intermediary.
Clearly careful thought had gone into the allocation of delegates to hosts. The delegate who
was to accompany me, Pun from Hong Kong, had written about workers in China working
in garment factories, amongst others. I had been part of a research project on homework in
the garment industry in South Africa, although I doubt whether the organisers can have
known this. Our research project showed that these homeworkers are almost entirely
female, and in many cases produce garments for the big retailers, via one or more
intermediary. They were also not unionised. One of the questions we had sought to raise
through our research is the possibility of their being organised, with SEWA as an example.
Needless to say I was delighted, therefore, to have firsthand contact with SEWA’s
organisation of homeworkers.
My discomfort at the EDP process concerned the assumption on which it seems to be
premised. This, bluntly put, seemed to be that the delegates were there to learn from SEWA
how the poor are organised. It also seemed to be that this was the delegates first exposure
to conditions of the poor, and was bound to be a life-changing experience. Certainly I learnt
a great deal from and about SEWA from my stay with Rafikunben. At the same time it was
not the first time I have stayed in a poor household, and it was probably not the poorest
household I have stayed in. The same is true of some other delegates I spoke to, informally.
What was valuable about it was as a ‘crash course’ in the particular experience of being
poor in India, and perhaps in Gujarat.
I would therefore have liked to see a greater emphasis on an exchange of different
experiences that the delegates brought with them to Ahmedabad, and the light their
experience throws on the particular experience in India. On the other hand this report is an
opportunity to engage in such a process, which I shall now attempt to utilise.
The home is Rafikunben’s workplace
Rafikunben stays in a predominantly Muslim district of Ahmedabad (Noorbhai Dhobi Ni
Chali). It is a traditionally working class district. There is a derelict textile mill located
nearby.
On approaching the block of houses where Rafikunben’s house is located one immediately
hears the chattering of sewing machines. In a room that is open to the street there are five
men working at sewing machines, embroidering garments. Round the corner is the entrance
79
to Rafikunben’s house. Her machine is in a second floor room that opens onto the roof top
of the house. Across the alley, a metre and a half wide, there is the noise of a sewing
machine from the first floor. The sound of machines is to be heard on and off late into the
night. We were told that many of the workers working from home were formerly employed
in the mills.
We observed Rafukinben making a child’s pair of shorts. These sell for 10 rupees.
Rafukinben is paid 1 rupee for each pair she produces, which is 10 percent of the sale
price6. She estimated that she could earn about 50 rupees a day working in this fashion. It
does not seem that Rafukinben has any concept of a workweek. Every day is a workday.
But assuming a six day work week, this would represent 300 rupees a week. The men
embroidering in the street below, by contrast, earn about 150 rupees a day. Embroidery is
relatively more skilled, and also requires specialised machinery. So in this instance, as is so
often the case, more skilled work is the preserve of men.
It seems Rafukinben is paid by an intermediary, or agent, who in turn delivers the garments
to a retailer. One such intermediary sells cloth bags made from scraps, and lives across the
alleyway from Rafukinben. He showed us a room in his house, filled to the ceiling by
stacks of cloth. These, it transpired, were bundles of bags made up by the women to whom
he puts out work. He regularly ‘employs’ about 5 women, and pays them per bundle of
bags produced. However there is no contact between the retailer who buys the bundle from
him and the workers.
Rafukinben also did not know the destination of the garments she used to make until she
was organised into the union. Through SEWA, she and other workers have been able to
trace and identify the retailer for whom they work. Rafukinben refers to these retailers as
‘the employers’. Although they, no doubt, deny the existence of an employment
relationship, SEWA has managed to persuade them to raise the rates that they pay the
women. Rafukinben also told us about what seems to have been a defining struggle for the
organisation of these homeworkers, when Kanhaiya, an important employer, refused to
give certain SEWA members work.
SEWA, we were told on various occasions, adheres to Gandhian principles of nonviolence. The struggle with Kanhaiya was resolved after a confrontation with the
homeworkers, in which he denied any relationship with them. The homeworkers responded
by producing a pile of clothing they had made for him. When they asked him to whom the
clothing belonged, he maintained he did not know. The workers then said that if the
clothing did not belong to anyone, they would burn it. They proceeded to do so. This resort
to ‘violent’ action was perceived as a breach with Gandhian principles. It was nevertheless
necessary, and ultimately effective. There is no longer a problem of SEWA members being
victimised.
6
That is comparable with what homeworkers we had interviewed in Cape Town and Durban are paid.
80
SEWA as a trade union
The context in which trade unions became industrial unions was a Fordist system of mass
manufacture. In this system, the relationship between the employer and workers, and
between the workers themselves, is readily apparent. To this extent, trade unionism is a
natural response to this form of production. Even so, trade unions are tasked with
responding to aspects of the relationship between workers and the employer that are not
obvious. It may be that the owner of the enterprise is not the person with whom the workers
are used to deal. It may be a question as to how their enterprise relates to others within the
same group of companies, or the same industry or sector (however these terms are defined).
Similarly, trade unions are tasked with responding to questions relating to the relationship
between workers in the production process, such as between workers with different levels
of skills, or between those in supervisory positions, who perhaps aspire to be managers, and
the relatively unskilled.
Historically, trade unions have responded to these issues in a great variety of ways. To
evaluate their response in each instance, it is necessary to understand the production
process in which their organisational activity is located. It is in relation to this that one can
understand a union’s membership constituency: that is, apart from the actual members, the
potential membership or the constituency the union targets to organise. It is also through
defining a trade union’s constituency that its effectiveness can be gauged.
SEWA, as I understand it, defines its broad constituency as self-employed women.7
However within this broad constituency there are industrial sectors, or trades (as SEWA
refers to them). Garment manufacture is one. In South Africa, garment manufacture is still
taking place in Fordist workplaces, with the workforce in the main urban centres covered
by a negotiated agreement8, and workforce in peripheral areas earning far lower wages.
However alongside the formal industry the informal economy in the urban centres is
burgeoning. The formal industry is thus under pressure from within. At the same time it is
under pressure from without, in the form of cheap imports primarily from China.
The principal difference between the situation of homeworkers manufacturing garments in
South Africa and India therefore seems to be that in South Africa it is entirely a clandestine
phenomenon, taking place illegally alongside a formal industry, whereas in India the
formal clothing industry is either non-existent, or non-existent in Ahmedabad. We were
told that the only place production in the formal economy was taking place was in textiles,
in Surat. It was unclear why textile mills had been able to survive in Surat (which is also in
Gujurat) and not in Ahmedabad.
If there is thus a conflict of interest between the homeworker in the informal economy and
workers in the formal economy, it is certainly not of the same magnitude it is in South
Africa. Moreover in the context of an economy in which employment is overwhelmingly in
7
8
I would have liked to see, and omitted to ask for, a copy of SEWA’s constitution.
Primarily Cape Town and Durban.
81
the informal economy, the significance of homework seems to be not so much that it is
clandestine, as that the relationship between the person putting out work and the person
doing the work is mystified.
We have seen how SEWA has fulfilled the role of a trade union in de-mystifying this
relationship. How then has it responded to questions regarding the relationship between
skilled and unskilled, and between supervisory workers and those at the bottom of the
production chain? We were given some insight into this at a meeting of the trade committee
on the afternoon of 18 January, at the SEWA reception centre. This was a meeting of
representatives of the retail garment workers, which takes place monthly, where problems
concerning the workers are raised and addressed.
The attendance at the meeting was impressive. There were between 50 and 60 women
present, besides officials of the union. Each of these represents a membership in the district
of the city she has come from. Most women who got up to speak claimed to represent
between 200 and 300 workers. We were obviously not in a position to verify this, and it
would be understandable if some had exaggerated the numbers. It is nevertheless clear that
SEWA has achieved an impressive level of organisation. It was also clear that through
meetings such as this, the women had achieved a consciousness of their common situation
such as could only be achieved through trade union organisation.
Representatives at the meeting were asked to report on the problems their members had
raised. One raised the cost of electricity. That was also a problem Rafukinben had raised
with us that morning. In Ahmedabad electricity is supplied by a private company.
Commercial users pay at a higher rate than domestic users, and as soon as the company is
aware there is a sewing machine in the house, it imposes a commercial rate. This struck us
as iniquitous, and we suggested SEWA might campaign against this practice. Other
problems raised concerned misconceptions about the provision of identity cards to the
workers. The provision of such cards relates to a campaign by SEWA to increase the
visibility and recognition accorded homeworkers. Yet another problem, discussed in more
detail below, related to their inability to undertake better paid work without certain skills,
and the need for training to improve the workers levels of skills.
But the last two problems concerned longstanding issues, which had obviously been
discussed at numerous meetings before this one. In fact there was no real point to the
discussion. It was not structured in such a way as to arrive at a conclusion or decision, and
there did not seem to be any agenda. On the matter of identity cards, for example, one
might have expected someone to give a report, to be followed by a structured discussion of
the issue. I formed the impression that much of the discussion was for the benefit of the
visitors, and that (kneeling in front, facing the representatives) we were too much the centre
of attention. Had we been absent a very different kind of discussion might have taken
place. It also crossed my mind that the attendance might not have been as good. Be that as
it may, the quality of the proceedings was not as impressive as the attendance.
After spending the night at Rafikunben’s house we had the opportunity to observe another
aspect of SEWA, which provided some insight into how it was addressing the relationship
82
between homeworkers making clothing and those in other sectors of the informal economy.
This was on a walk from Rafikunben’s home to a nearby district (Haji Gafoor ni Chali) to
collect trade union subscriptions from a member there. On the way we chanced to meet
three sets of SEWA members. The first was a woman making bangles. The second was a
group of construction workers laying the foundation for a house. The third was a group of
paper pickers. We spoke to the leader of this group, a charismatic woman whose
enthusiasm for the union was palpable. Clearly SEWA has achieved a high level presence
in urban Ahmedabad.
The collection of subscriptions is clearly a vital element in cementing the relationship
between SEWA and its members. However the amount of the subscription is 5 rupees a
year. This can clearly not cover the costs of running the union. One percent of wages is a
rough standard for trade union subscriptions, once advocated in South Africa. It may be
this standard is inappropriate in the Indian context, but it was certainly possible for a trade
union to be financially autonomous at this level of subscription. One percent of wages at
Rafukinben’s level of earnings would be 3 rupees a week, or some 150 rupees a year. Of
course many members will be less well off, and there are definite benefits in having one
cash subscription for all members. This nevertheless suggests that the union is very far
from being self-sufficient. This in turn raise questions as to whether it is primarily a union
at all.
One of the questions Pun regularly asked workers was why they belonged to SEWA. There
was never a very clear answer. This does not mean there are not good reasons for belonging
to SEWA, but perhaps that the reasons are manifold, and do not only or primarily relate to
the services SEWA provides as a union. In fact access to loans from SEWA bank seemed
to be a stronger factor than any trade union services provided. On the other hand there are
many intangibles to membership of an organisation that are not easily expressed. These
include the sense of security it provides, and a sense of belonging.
SEWA as women’s organisation
A sense of belonging to a larger organisation with credibility and influence is also tied up
with issues of gender, and the particular role of women in relation to work. In South Africa
as elsewhere one is used to women being allocated unskilled work. At the same time there
is a notion of ‘women’s work’ that clearly does not have the same meaning as in the Indian
context. Thus one would not expect to see women employed in heavy physical work, such
as the construction workers we encountered, least of all in an urban context. There are also
men doing what would be regarded as typically ‘women’s work’ in a South African
context, such as embroidery.
The men engaged in embroidery raised, for me, a question as to whether the gender
composition of SEWA could be reconciled with its trade union function. For if, as I have
suggested, a trade union is tasked with responding to differences between workers, how is
it able to do so without engaging with men who are employed in the same sector as it?
These are not only men with higher skills, as in the case of embroidery. The intermediaries
who give the women work are often men, as in the case of the man who had bags made
83
from scraps of clothing. Structurally they occupy the same position in the production chain
of the informal economy as a supervisor in the formal economy. They are therefore
susceptible to organisation. It is difficult to see how SEWA could ever be effective as a
union without at least the parallel organisation of men such as these.
At the same time I found little indication that SEWA was challenging the gendered nature
of work, other than by improving its members’ skills. Rafukinben’s grand-daughter, for
example, was a young teenager. However she was not attending school. The expectation
seemed to be that she would marry young, as her grandmother had done, and also take up
her grand-mothers occupation. As a women’s organisation one might expect some
interrogation of culturally determined expectations such as these.
On the other hand SEWA was clearly having an impact on some cultural expectations. To
the non-Indian, the caste-system is obscure. It was nevertheless clear that Rafukinben was
from the lower caste. The mere fact that she occupied a leadership position within SEWA
was thus significant. SEWA had evidently also played a critical role in dissipating tensions
between Muslims and Hindus following the 2002 riots in Gujarat, that had left deep scars
on Rafukinben’s community.
SEWA as an enterprise
SEWA’s response to the need expressed by its members for training to improve their skills
has been twofold. Firstly, it has entered into an agreement with the National Institute for
Fashion Technology (NIFT). This is a government training body based at Gandhinagar,
about 50 kilometres from Ahmedabad. In terms of this agreement, SEWA members and
members of their family are placed for a period of six months as trainees at the NIFT
centre.
In the afternoon of 18 January we observed about fifty of these trainees, who were
apparently being bussed from Ahmedabad on a daily basis. The trainees were engaged in
the manufacture of garments in what was in effect a small to medium sized factory.
Rafukinben would never have been exposed to some of the operations they were
performing, such as cutting, and embroidery using specialised machinery. But the problem
is that without access to this specialised machinery, the trainees would have no opportunity
to utilise the skills acquired.
The second element of SEWA’s response has thus been to acquire the specialised
machinery that will enable its members to utilise these skills. This in turn has necessitated
establishing its own production facility, or training centre, in urban Ahmedabad. On 19
January we visited this centre, in Sharpur. It is apparently close to where many
homeworkers are based. The idea is that workers will visit the centre to utilise the
equipment, at a nominal cost. In so doing they will be able to meet orders they would
otherwise not be able to take on. However the centre was not yet operational, and it is
clearly too soon to know how it will work in practice. Machinery recently ordered from
Japan was still in boxes and unpacked.
84
The product the trainees were making at the NIFT training centre were the very same items
that Banascraft shop was selling. From their warehouse it was also clear that there was a
significant volume of goods produced. However the women we observed producing them
were clearly not the artisans who got 65 percent of what the buyer is paid. The contribution
of the women artisans was the beadwork and embroidery on the items. This had obviously
been put on at a stage prior to the process we had observed. The question this gave rise to is
how the trainees are remunerated for their work, and whether that remuneration is fair.
The SEWA officials accompanying us were not able to answer questions in this regard.
They did not understand the process, and there was no-one else at the training centre we
could speak to. It was only after a specially arranged visit to SEWA’s Trade Facilitation
Centre on 22 January that I learned that the trainees received a stipend. It is an open
question as to whether that stipend represents fair remuneration. I also learned that SEWA
had recently set up a non-profit company (in terms of section 25 of the Indian companies
legislation) to promote the interest of the women doing the embroidery and beadwork.
There were about 15 000 of these women in the rural villages. Currently only about 3,500
are shareholders in the company.
The Trade Facilitation Centre explained the production process in its entirety. Products
would be designed by what is referred to as a ‘design cell’, which might include designers
of NIFT. The Centre would procure the requisite materials, which would then be cut into
kits. These kits would include thread and a sample of the finished product, which would be
sent to the appropriate villages. After workers in the villages have added value by putting
on the beadwork or the like, the goods would be returned to Ahmedabad for finishing. The
finishing is the process we observed at the NIFT centre.
It is not in any way a reflection on the SEWA officials who very competently and willingly
explained the process, if I say that there is much about the economics of this process that is
not transparent. It would be inconceivable, to illustrate the point, that an enterprise
operating according to commercial principles would pay the women artisans 65 percent of
the purchase price (as per the label). For that would leave a mere thirty five percent of the
purchase price to cover the costs of the conception and design of the garment, purchase of
raw materials, transport to and from the villages, and labour at the NIFT centre, plus the
retail market up. It follows that these other costs are subsidised, and heavily so. I would not
expect transparency from an ordinary enterprise, operating according to commercial
principles. The fact is it is not.
The question for which I have been no clear answer is how one reconciles the activities of a
trade union with owning and operating an enterprise, and all the potential contradictions
this gives rise to. To my mind this is an altogether different question than the activities of
SEWA’s co-operatives give rise to. For a co-operative should be capable of existing
autonomously from SEWA, and in any event operate in terms of their own federal
structure. However unless the non-profit company is financially autonomous, it is not
capable of operating autonomously.
85
The intention is that this company should be financially autonomous, and it was even
suggested that the company should aspire to be listed as public company. However this
idea has clearly not been thought through. By listing as a public company it would be
exposed to threat of take over. Moreover to do so would seem to entail jettisoning the niche
market the company currently caters to, to the buyer with a social consciousness.
SEWA the NGO
Should we regard SEWA as a model of a membership based organisation of the poor
(MBOP), to be distinguished from an NGO? This of course depends on how an MBOP is
defined. However the more I observed of its modus operandi, and the extent of its reliance
on donor funding, the more I was inclined to view it as an NGO. This is not to say that
there is not participation by its members. However this participation must be seen as a
doubtless sincere endeavour to achieve accountability. It seems to me to fall short of
genuine membership control.
But these are only impressions, based on a glimpse at a large and complex organisation. By
the same token, as regards what I termed the overriding question, my impression is that the
form of organisation SEWA represents cannot be replicated, and it is in fact a product of a
particular constellation of circumstances.
86
Rafkutben Fatemohammdad Mansuri—Pun Ngai
87
Exposure Note by Pun Ngai
My first time to India was brought by MBOP meeting and EDP in the beginning of
2005. I was excited to explore the Indian society, especially in Ahmedabad, a small city
where Gandhi devoted his whole life to revolutionary causes. Full of curiosity and with a
mind of learning, Jan and I were arranged to stay with a family of a SEWA’s leader in a
Muslim community on 17th and 18th of January, 2005. Entering the community at the
evening of 17th, the village was still bustling; residents were working with their machines
at home, and sounds of sewing machines were here and there. This was a typical working
class community with ethnic background, I was told by a SEWA organizer.
During the night, Jan and I were surrounded by a crowd of people who were from
the neighborhood of the community. Conversations centered on the daily life, work and
how SEWA was able to organize the residents as the members of the organization. For a
few times, the conversation would naturally flow on riots attacking the community life a
few years ago. Houses were burned, property was destroyed and animals were stolen by the
rioters coming from the rural India. There were still painful memories of the residents who
were eager to share their life experience.
On the second morning, we walked around the community and saw both men and
women were using sewing machines to produce simple products. On the way to do
household visit for collecting membership dues, we met a group of construction workers,
again both men and women, in the street; “We are all SEWA’s members”, said one of the
construction workers. SEWA’s organizing power was undoubted when we further met a
group of rubbish collectors who were picking up wastes in another corner of the street.
“We are all SEWA’s members! Any questions you would like to ask?” A middle aged
woman actively approached us.
In the afternoon, we attended a regular garment industry’s meeting held by the
members’ representatives who were from different regions. During the meeting, many
representatives raised their problems and shared their difficulties. Some women
representatives even suggested ways that SEWA could further consider to help them. Many
of them complained that their sewing machines were old mold and could not produce
sophisticated fabrics. More than one hundred women representatives came to the meeting
and each of them represented a few hundred from their own community.
Membership is the base of SEWA just as Gandhi’s spirit is the philosophy of both
SEWA and WIEGO. I learned at heart from this EDP which is the highlight of the trip to
India.
88
Pushpaben Jamesbhai Parmar—Edward Walker
89
Reflections on the Cornell-SEWA-WIEGO Exposure-Dialogue Program
Personal Reflections
It is just before noon as we complete our journey from Ahmedabad to Chikhodra, a
small village in the Anand district about two hours south. The block we are staying on is
bookended by large Christian church on one side and a residential tent area on the other.
We are welcomed into Pushpaben’s house, where we are offered tea and sit on cots in the
front room. We meet her daughter-in-law and her cherubic granddaughter. This part of the
visit allows me and my co-visitor Carolben to become acquainted with our hosts:
Pushpaben, Smitaben, and Leenaben. It was in this room that I would remain for the
majority of my visit, as I understood that uninvited visits to the kitchen area could quickly
transform me from a welcome guest into a persona non grata.
Our interlocutors told us about their lives, work in the informal sector, and SEWA.
I was offered such an unfailingly positive impression of SEWA’s work that I began to
wonder how much of it was could possibly be true; most of those impressions were
confirmed as our visit progressed. We learn about Pushpaben’s biography: five children,
married daughters, the balance of work and family. Her personal narrative is intertwined
with SEWA in her community: for her children’s upbringing, SEWA’s childcare
cooperatives helped her manage the time pressures between the fields and the home; for her
children’s education, SEWA provided loans, without which their enrollment would not
have been possible; for her own empowerment, SEWA gave her the strength to cultivate
her life beyond the confines of domestic responsibility. The latter point I found especially
noteworthy, in that the organization has provided her not just with the standard rewards that
go along with membership in many organizations (the ‘selective incentives’ described by
Mancur Olson in The Logic of Collective Action), but a true sense of liberation and selfempowerment. The effects of membership in the organization go well beyond ‘getting the
goods’ and offer possibilities for personal transformation.
Once we were acquainted, we were brought to a meeting of the trustees of the
savings and credit group. The group provides loans for assistance with business, home
renovations, sickness protection, and education expenses. What surprised me the most
about this encounter was the fact that the trustees personally reviewed each case submitted
to them; could it be that those participating in this program are not only promoting the
improvement of their community, but avoiding bureaucratic models for accomplishing
this?
We spent the afternoon visiting a local milk cooperative and witnessing the tobacco
harvesting of Pushpaben and Smitaben. I tried my hand briefly at the work in the fields;
my hands became exceptionally sticky from the plant. Pushpa’s hands at the end of her
shift were covered in dark plant sap and had an almost adhesive quality to them. I learned
that were she to work a full day’s shift, she would earn around 45 Rs. for the day.
Pushpaben told us about the various initiatives SEWA has undertaken to raise wages,
which have lead to marked improvements in wages and rights for workers. SEWA also
assisted workers who were displaced by last year’s heavy monsoon season. It is becoming
90
clear that smaller tobacco farmers are being increasingly displaced by large-scale
agribusiness and free trade regulation, and this seems likely to have an impact on the
Chikhodra farmers in the upcoming years. As well, with public health concerns on the rise,
public demands for the bidis produced here may be on the decline. Tobacco workers’
unions are put in an awkward position when public health concerns come into conflict with
job security.
We spent the evening having pleasant conversation about Pushpaben’s life and
work. The following morning we prepared to depart and were met by Pushpaben’s
neighbors; I was informed later that having visitors from distant areas tends to boost the
status of the host in the community. Just before we left, we were introduced to Pushpa’s
son, who had been working in a factory all night long. Happy to return home to his mother,
wife, and baby child, he made the transition back from work to family life.
Edward Walker
Technical Reflections
Communal Violence
Pushpaben’s village of Chikhodra was rocked by the communal violence which
took place throughout Gujarat in 2002. It seemed to me suggestive of how intense the
conflicts were when our hosts described to us the structure of the community, which is
segregated both by religion and by caste. I researched this a bit further, and came upon one
account of the communal violence which shows that the Anand region (which includes
Chikhodra) had almost the same number of violent incidents reported as Ahmedabad,9 even
though the Ahmedabad district is almost three times larger in area and has more than triple
the population. The violence in this region was both broader in scope and more
concentrated in magnitude. I wondered to what extent these rather contentious issues have
shaped the development of SEWA; it seemed to beg the question of the tightrope that
broad-based organizations must walk in managing the issue of difference in their
organization. In my own research, I have found evidence that broad-based organizations
tend to take on less contentious issues having widespread community support, and this may
weaken their effectiveness in mobilizing members.10
The Role of NGOs in Development and Women’s Empowerment
The growth of non-governmental organizations in international development work
has, of course, been explosive in recent times. Gustavo Marquez notes how “informal
entrepreneurs” have become the “new champion of people-powered development,
postulated as a hero from opposing angles of the political spectrum. These include rightwing romantics, conservatives eager to break the influence of labor, and leftist proponents
9
http://www.sabrang.com/cc/archive/2002/marapril/rdestruction.htm
John D. McCarthy and Edward T. Walker. 2004. “Alternative Organizational Repertoires of Poor People’s
Social Movement Organizations.” Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly, Supplement to 33(3): 97S119S.
10
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of the ‘little guy.’”11 During our visit, we witnessed the many functions that SEWA plays
for its members: as trade union, community and cultural organization, and micro-finance
provider, inter alia. Although SEWA remains member-based and democratic, that this is
untrue of many other such NGOs cannot be gainsaid. SEWA’s model presents the
advantage over organizations modeled as mere service providers in that it is more
accountable to its members than to the organizations providing it resources.
“Social Capital” and the Reconfigured State
States are abdicating their role as service providers to citizens, and the voluntary
associations of civil society are increasingly picking up the slack left behind. Along with
this has come the increasing focus of analysts and practitioners focusing on the
development of “social capital,” typically understood as the positive effects following from
the interconnections between individuals and organizations. Clearly, the work of SEWA’s
micro-finance and cooperative programs promotes a sense of trust and community for their
members, as well as providing a necessary service to members. As well, it offers nonmembers an incentive to join the organization in order to receive such benefits. However,
for voluntary organizations to provide the services once provided by the state shifts
accountability away from the state. Often, such organizations are undemocratic and
therefore responsive neither to their constituency nor to non-members who are subject to
their decisions. I began to wonder: how could social policy be crafted in order to favor
voluntary organizations, like SEWA, that are more democratic in structure?
Edward Walker
11
Gustavo Marquez. 1994. “Inside Informal Sector Policies in Latin America: An Economist’s View,” in
Cathy A. Rakowski (ed.), Contrapunto: The Informal Sector Debate in Latin America. Albany, NY: State
University of New York Press, p.164.
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Pushpaben Jamesbhai Parmar—Carol Richards
93
Reflections on Membership Based Organizations of the Poor through the experience
of Pushpaben
Learning about SEWA from my host lady, Pushpaben, turns out to have been a rich
introduction to the question of what makes a successful MBOP. The visit raised a number
of themes that illuminated, for me, the research topics of the meetings that followed.
Pushpaben is a founding member of SEWA in Anand District, population 130,000, located
65 kilometers from Ahmedabad, with some of the most fertile land in India. This area has
traditionally grown 80% of India’s tobacco, but with national laws limiting tobacco crops,
the fields now rotate among tobacco, wheat, rice and millet. Pushpaben lives in Chikhodra
Village, which is surrounded by fields and a diminishing number of factories where
tobacco leaves are briefly cured and made into bidi’s (a type of cigar). Picking tobacco
(thereby becoming covered with brown sticky tar from head to foot) alternates with factory
work, depending on the season. Pushpaben has been a tobacco worker in one form or
another her entire life.
Twenty years ago, tobacco workers in Anand District had heard little if anything about
SEWA, an organization of women workers based in Ahmedabad. Pushpaben’s first
encounter occurred at the factory where she worked when SEWA came in offering literacy
classes. Through these classes SEWA learned about issues of most concern to the workers,
which, not unexpectedly, coalesced around pay. Factories and fields were owned by the
Patels, a high-caste Hindu community of traditional landowners that hired day laborers
from the village, without benefits, for 2 rupees a day. In the literacy classes, workers
learned that legally they were entitled to 7 rupees a day, the minimum wage, although few
villagers received that rate.
Pushpaben and a handful of others decided to ask the Patels for four rupees a day. How did
the workers make this leap to coordinated collective action, as SEWA was proposing?
What organizing principles have enabled SEWA not only to get started in Anand District,
but to grow over the years to a membership of 7,000 there? What does Pushpaben’s
experience tell us about creating a successful MBOP?
Pay and job benefits improve
An obvious point underpinning SEWA’s success is that SEWA delivered what the workers
wanted. Collective action succeeded in raising the wage, first to 4 rupees, then to the 7
rupee official minimum, to today’s rate of 40 rupees a day (approximately 91cents a day)
except for weeding the crop which only fetches 30 rupees. Pushpaben told us it is
important that the workers’ demands are supported by the law; SEWA is asking for what
the workers are entitled to, and the targets are the local enforcement officials rather than the
Patels directly. The paternal system is not directly challenged.
SEWA has garnered other benefits for the tobacco workers. For example, the Patels now
award competitive scholarships for advanced study to children of the workers. Pushpaben’s
married daughter is a current recipient, studying computers in a college nearby.
94
SEWA members create institutions
For the tobacco workers, getting family members through secondary school was made
possible by loans from the SEWA bank to cover school fees that were otherwise out of
reach, especially for daughters who traditionally lost the competition for scarce family
resources. The SEWA savings group was started by the tobacco workers. The first loan
Pushpaben took out was to pay school fees.
Informal mechanisms support cooperation
What are some informal mechanisms that support successful collective action?
Pushpaben’s experience is an example of organizing individuals who communicate and
interact with one another in a localized physical setting, so that they learn whom to trust,
and they share norms and patterns of life. Many members live in proximity, and they share
work patterns such as walking to and from fields twice a day (there is a midday break).
Pushpaben says it is very hard to get new members from parts of town where women don’t
know one another—where traditional residence and work patterns have been eroded.
Pushpaben exemplifies the nonsectarian aspect of SEWA’s organizing. She is a
“Spearhead” member of SEWA, a leadership position that encompasses her election as a
trustee of the SEWA credit and savings association formed in 1995. As a Christian she is a
member of the smallest religious group in Chikhodra Village, where Christians live among
three Hindu castes, Muslims, and immigrants from other states, predominantly “tribals.”
She is a well respected, elected leader despite her minority status in society. Her success is
supported by the extent to which SEWA has stood behind the founding principals of
Gandhi in relation to open membership and minimizing caste and religious divisions.
Of course political realities intrude on members, sometimes violently, as we learned at the
village milk co-op where we were introduced to a SEWA member whose husband died
when the propane gas tanks of a local mosque were detonated during the communal riots
three years ago.
Another SEWA organizing principle relates to the election of representatives in a
democratic “nesting” process whereby the degrees of separation between voter and
candidate are few: a sort of nested Russian doll voting pattern. There is some literature to
suggest that large organizations with leaders elected through the ranks have greater
accountability and stronger organizations.
Training as central
Finally, my host lady exemplifies the organizing strategy of member training and more
training, from the outset and continuously, even though this approach absorbs large
amounts of financial and time resources. Recall that Pushpaben began her association with
SEWA in a literacy class. Over the years she has received many forms of training and
capacity building. The latest is an exciting pilot project new to SEWA whereby the loan
association’s trustees are receiving computer training coupled with English lessons. This is
nothing less than a revolution of opportunity, if the pilot succeeds.
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What’s next?
Reflecting on these reflections, I find that I have fallen into the trap of unstinting praise for
SEWA. When you get to know SEWA first hand, it’s easy to do. However, it is a trap in
the sense that all organizational arrangements are subject to stress, weakness and failure.
One of the greatest challenges facing SEWA now is how to encourage healthy questioning,
to challenge the prevailing culture of extolling virtues, a culture which has served so well
to deflect hostile challenges to SEWA’s very existence as a women’s organization of the
poor. As SEWA contemplates “going to scale,” examination of fragilities will be its
greatest challenge.
Carol Richards
96
Shakriben Shakraji Thakore—Eve Crowley
97
Technical EDP Note12
Insights on an Organization of the Poor
SEWA and the Raipur Women’s Milk Cooperative Limited
Cooperatives in Gandhinagar District generally range in size from 50 to 2000 members,
although most comprise about 200 members. The Raipur Women’s Milk Cooperative has
213 members of which 140 are active and come to every meeting. On an average day,
members sell approximately 1000 litres to the coop. Milk with a 10% fat content earns 18
rupees/litre, whereas that of 5% fat content earns half that. The milk they produce is taken
by truck to Madhur Dairy in Gandhinagar town. The profit that the cooperative earns is
redistributed to members as a bonus, amounting to about 40,000 rupees per month for the
400-500,000 rupees of milk sold. The government audits all dairy cooperatives once every
three months, ranking them as A (sophisticated/well run), B (good, but administered by few
people and insufficient member participation) and C (problems in management, poorly
trained staff, new cooperative).
As per the Cooperative Act, all members must be over 18 years of age, have no legal case
against them, be actively employed in the profession around which the cooperative is
organized, and pay 10 rupees to become a share holder. The Executive board may ask a
member to leave if she starts her own private milk business on the side, willfully harms the
cooperative in word or in deed, or uses the cooperative’s name for her own personal benefit
(to earn money, to make contacts using cooperative stationery, etc.).
The Executive board consists of 12 members all of whom claim to be literate, although
literacy is not a requirement. Board members must be active members of the cooperative.
Executive board members are chosen by consensus, maintaining a weighted balance
proportionate to the castes of members, and supposedly rotate out periodically. The board
appoints a Secretary who is paid a fixed salary of 1,500 rupees/month regardless of
revenues. The board meets once a month and members are paid thrice monthly for the milk.
At the monthly meeting, the board reviews profits, losses, expenditures, sales, and the
percent of sour milk and wastage. They also review expenses in detail, including salaries,
and equipment purchase and repair. Expenses of over 5,000 rupees require approval of the
executive board, whereas extremely large expenses, such as the purchase of a computer or
a building, require a decision by all members. All cooperative members meet once a year
at the end of March to decide what to do with the profits and how they should be
distributed.
12
My thanks to Kofi Asamoah (the Deputy Secretary General of the Ghana Trade Union Congress), Jayaben (the Senior Cooperatives
Officer of SEWA), Kashmiraben (the SEWA Accountant), and Nidhiben (Gujarati-American Harvard graduate working for SEWA for
over a year, and brilliant interpreter) for helping to make this such an enjoyable and enriching experience.
98
Some observations
Despite the abundance of cooperatives, cooperatives of the truly poor are rare. The need
for cooperatives to make profit in order to be viable creates conditions that favour wealthier
members over poorer members, and over time results in attrition of the poorer members.
Cooperatives tend to benefit stronger and better-off members, even if they are only a
minority, are not usually effective in bringing about fundamental social change in favour of
the poorest, and largely reproduced the pre-existing social order.13
Although the short visit is a poor basis for assessment, compared to other milk cooperatives
in the district and region, the women’s owned cooperative in Raipur Village appears to
have been relatively successful in:
•
•
•
•
•
Maintaining a poor majority and benefiting a poorer group of milk producers
than most other cooperatives in the region. Overall, members consist of smaller
scale producers and represent more disadvantaged castes. Although cooperatives
are by definition profit oriented and share based, SEWA actively works to ensure
that its cooperative members have more or less equal shares.
Enabling members to obtain greater returns from their milk sales than was
possible when they sold the milk individually to businessmen or when they
obtained cows on loan from businessmen and paid back with half the milk.
Benefiting women, who are the only members of the cooperative.
o
Even though the milk frequently comes from buffalo and cows that belong
to member’s husbands, fathers or brothers, the money is deposited in the
woman’s name and the proceeds are generally used for the family’s benefits.
o
Compared to male run cooperatives which tend to be more political and
shorter lived, and in which “everyone wants to be a leader”, women run
cooperatives are reportedly more focused on profit, health, and insurance
and “no one wants to be a leader”.
o
A SEWA woman member with leadership qualities can become the unpaid
cooperative chairperson, and advance to membership in the board of the
SEWA Women’s Cooperative Federation and ultimately to the board of the
Gandhinagar Milk Union.
Maintaining a relatively stable membership base14 comprised of members who
generally abide by the rules of the cooperative. Reportedly only 5 members have
left in the past 12 years.
Achieving a certain measure of financial self-reliance through the following:
o
Good record keeping
o
Sustained production of a consistent supply of high quality milk, which can
be attributed to veterinary services, discounted medicines, and the training
that member’s receive in animal feeding and care, hygiene and sanitation,
13
G. Huizer, 1997 “Participatory action research and people's participation:
Introduction and case studies”,
http://www.fao.org/sd/PPdirect/PPre0026.htm; UNRISD, 1975 "Rural Cooperatives as Agents of Change: A Research Report and a
Debate", Report No. 74.3, Geneva, pp. 7, 34.
14
One of the most common problems is that some 10% of active members also sell some of their higher quality milk outside of the
SEWA cooperative to private businesses.
99
•
•
and that board members receive in registry, accounts, running meetings, and
milk pricing.
o
Accessible location of the cooperative office, facilitating access by small
producers and minimizing transport costs15
o
Effective integration within the district and state dairy federations, which act
as reliable buyers
o
Legislation which restricts the numbers of cooperatives that can be
established in any given area, minimizing competition. Dairy cooperative
density has reached capacity in Gandhinagar and a new cooperative can only
be established, now, if an existing one fails.
Improving member confidence in the fairness and accuracy of profit
distribution and milk quality testing through the introduction of computerized
technology.
Achieving a certain level of managerial self-reliance, through monthly executive
board meetings in which members’ representatives have a regular opportunity to
monitor financial status, share information, and participate in critical decisions.
These are all characteristics of successful membership based organizations of the poor.
However, based on observations, including a somewhat heated discussion at the meeting,
two factors may undermine the cooperative’s sustainability and viability, as well as it
effectiveness to benefit the poor if they remain unresolved. These factors are likely to
characterize other SEWA dairy cooperatives and some of the other self-help groups as
well. They may be summarized as follows:
1. The Technology and Literacy Gap. Cooperative members, even those within the
executive board appear to have an unquestioning faith in the capacities and good will of
the Cooperative’s Secretary. She has maintained her post as Secretary since the
cooperative was established in 1993, despite guidance that leadership should be rotated.
She is the only paid member of the Executive Board and has responsibility for
reporting, record keeping, and other functions. She is also the only fully literate
member of the cooperative.
It was clear that, despite the rule that the internal rules and by-laws of the cooperative
be reviewed with executive board members and cooperative members periodically, and
despite occasional prompting by the President to do so, the Secretary had not read the
rules aloud to the membership for some time. Similarly, she had not read the
assessment report of the cooperative that the Dairy Board had prepared and which
resulted in the Raipur Women’s Milk Cooperative being classified as B grade. The
cooperative was graded B rather than A because its membership was not growing, the
by-laws had not been updated to reflect larger policies, receipts were written by hand
rather than as formal invoices, and there was no “provident fund” because the business
was too small. Furthermore, most executive board members neither knew that the
15
In the meeting, members discussed the need to identify alternative premises or land on which to build a new one, as the landlord
wished to reclaim the building as a commercial property and to charge rents at commercial, rather than cooperative rates. The
cooperative was paying 500 rupees/month in rent and another 1,200 rupees/month in electricity bills.
100
report had been submitted, nor understood the basis for this assessment (until our visit,
that is).
Similarly, members considered the computerised milk fat testing system to be far
superior in accuracy and fairness than the humanly fallible manual milk-testing
machine, even though they did not understand and could not access or manage the
computerized system. Furthermore, despite SEWA’s ideology of leaders mentoring
future leaders, the Secretary managed the computer entirely on her own, aside from the
few computer lessons she had given to her son. It is important to note that training
others to perform a job for which she is paid would work against the Secretary’s self
interest. Executive board members considered computer use to be highly skilled labour,
far beyond their ken.
At the same time, members regularly emphasized that they would not want her to be
replaced, since she was known, trusted and had performed her functions honourably for
some time. Above all, none of them felt that they had the necessarily literacy and
computer skills to replace her or even monitor her actions or crosscheck the accounts.
This example illustrates a growing literacy, skill and knowledge gap separating SEWA
leaders and group members. If SEWA is to maximize the pro-poor impacts of its
current investments/activities and if it is to consolidate its current membership as it
expands and scales-up, the question of how to broaden the knowledge base among rural
members, not just as a means for exerting improved control and oversight over current
leadership, but also as a basis for expanded and future leadership, will need to be
addressed seriously. Groups that rely so heavily on single individuals are highly
vulnerable to their departure and risk being short-lived. SEWA leaders, at all levels,
should be strongly encouraged (and assessed based on their ability?) to mentor at least
two other members (or their daughters) as future leaders, including the transfer of
leadership, group management, accounting and others skills.
2. Divisions among the poor. SEWA’s dairy cooperative appears to reach poorer crosssections of the population than most other cooperatives. However, there are,
nonetheless, significant economic and social differences among SEWA cooperative
members that influence levels of literacy, comfort with public speaking, willingness to
question authority, and perceived aptitude to run for leadership positions. These
differences often follow caste lines and create a situation in which women of higher
castes tend, disproportionately, to occupy the real decision-making and leadership
positions. This also appears to be the case at higher levels of the SEWA hierarchy.
There is no doubt that these divisions are a historical legacy and basically a reflection,
on a smaller and weaker scale, of the larger socio-cultural milieu in which caste
differences are accepted as the “natural order”. However, SEWA may need to renew its
efforts and apply more consistent and explicit incentives and other mechanisms to
break down these barriers, if lower caste members are to benefit proportionately.
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A final general observation is that the expansion of SEWA’s membership from urban to
rural areas has been noteworthy given the challenges of organizing in rural areas.
Cooperative members recalled the difficulty in the early days to convince rural women
in the vicinity to sell the small quantities of milk they produced to the new SEWA
cooperative in order to ensure sufficient quantities of stock to make it worthwhile for
the Madhur cooperative to send a truck to collect it. While organizing in the informal
sector is difficult under any circumstances, some SEWA members affirm that
organizing workers in rural areas is particularly difficult. First, more money and time
are invested in organizing rural workers than can be obtained from dues, given rural
workers low wages. Secondly, many rural workers have no previous experience with
cooperatives or union organization and do not readily see the value of joining these
organizations. Thirdly, the standard union problems of maintaining a high level of
member participation, building up organizational and managerial capacity and
developing dedicated and committed leadership are intensified in rural areas, where
potential members are not just difficult to identify, but also difficult to contact and to
assemble. Lack of education, physical dispersion, and the power of large landlords,
businesses, and middlemen also hinder organizational efforts in rural areas.
Eve Crowley
Personal EDP Note16
on Shakriben, Raipur Village, Gandhinagar Village, Gujarat
A mother
Shakri-ben had two daughters and so had I. They would be roughly the same age. My
firstborn is taller than me and good at school. Her firstborn was buried at two months of
age, stolen by disease. Our second-born daughters, my Maita-beti and her Veena-beti, play
together among the buffalo and cows.
I want everything for my girls; they are everything I’ve ever hoped for. Shakri-ben stays
up all night, crying at the altar in her room for one son, one certainty of a future, of support
and protection, should her husband die first. Beautiful bright Veena-beti excels at school,
but Shakri-ben is wretched. “I have no one”, she says, using an expression beyond words,
a cause of great sadness, an insult, a source of fear, a symbol of death in life that can mean
the difference between death and life. She wishes for Veena-beti to become well educated
through Standard 7 or 8, so that she will not be taken advantage of, so that she can travel
alone. But she is afraid to hope: “How can I dream for my daughter, when society would
never let it happen?”
16
My thanks to Kofi Asamoah (the Deputy Secretary General of the Ghana Trade Union Congress), Jayaben (the Senior Cooperatives
Officer of SEWA), Kashmiraben (the SEWA Accountant), and Nidhiben (Gujarati-American Harvard graduate working for SEWA for
over a year, and brilliant interpreter) for helping to make this such an enjoyable and enriching experience.
102
A home
Shakri-ben’s mother and father were textile mill workers in the city of Maniklal. She left
school in Standard 2, to look after her brother when he was born. She married at 11 years
of age, but only moved permanently to her husband’s house in the country some three years
later, as is custom among the women of the Thakore caste.
Outside of Raipur village, Shakri-ben has a fine concrete house of four rooms, a kitchen,
and lavatory, with castor bean, sesame and other produce on the roof, and cattle and buffalo
in the front courtyard. But this house is no match for the humble home she built with her
own bare hands, of mud and sweat and dreams and hours seized from nightly slumber, after
long hours labouring in the fields. That home “was not some material thing, but the place I
put my heart”. The new watercourse of the government-built dam swept her home away
before her eyes. Her concrete house is compensation.
A day’s work
She rises before dawn to milk the animals. They know her and would not let others perform
this intimate task. Then she goes to work for hours in the fields of wheat, millet, rice,
fodder, and vegetables to plant or weed or harvest from her husband’s small plot or to
sharecrop the absentee-owned plots for a quarter of the harvest. After head loading the
fodder home and feeding the animals, hours are needed to prepare meals, to cook finger
millet chapattis and vegetables over the wood fire, to fetch water, to clean the house. In the
afternoon, her daughter returns from school. At dusk, she milks the animals again.
A cooperative of poor women
Her husband’s family takes her milk by bicycle to the cooperative twice a day and brings
the receipts home to her. At the cooperative, the computer tests the fat content of canister
after canister of milk and the SEWA cooperative’s secretary electronically registers the
names and quantities of milk that members bring. A truck carries the canisters to the state
milk cooperative in the neighbouring town of Madhur.
At the monthly meeting of the milk cooperative’s executive board, twelve women sit in a
circle on the floor. Shakri-ben is the one in the back row, head covered, eyes cast down,
silent. She usually only attends meetings of the broader membership, not the Board. The
fairer skinned among them, of the Patel caste, have finer saris and are more vocal, but in
the assembly there are other Thakore women of Shakri-ben’s “other backward caste”, who
speak up and raise questions. Jaya-ben, the organizer, says that it is “how your mind is,
and how your heart is” that determines how active one is in a cooperative. Shakri-ben says
“I have a rough voice and live with animals. What I am is what I am and what I am is
alright”. She says that she will never be a leader, but she is happy to be a member. She is
happy to have some place to sell her milk that she can trust, to have learned how to care for
her animals and how to produce clean, quality milk, and to have a source of income to
supplement the food they grow. And she will only ever sell to a women’s cooperative,
where she feels comfortable.
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Jaya-ben, the Senior Cooperative Officer, wants to see this cooperative work, because its
success affects SEWA’s success. The skills of the members and the quality, reputation,
values and philosophy of each cooperative affect the entire Federation and its capacity to
expand and win support.
A sisterhood of suffering
“We do not lack employment. We do not lack a livelihood. But there is more to life than
this. SEWA understands this. We need a place to share, a place where we are not alone, a
place where we can be sisters in suffering.” ---Jaya-ben
Eve Crowley
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Contributors
Chris Bonner
Christine Bonner is the Director of the Organization and Representation Programme of
WIEGO. She has worked in and with the trade union movement in South Africa for nearly
30 years, organizing and educating workers. From1997-2002 she worked as the founding
director of the Development Institute for Training, Support and Education for Labour
(DITSELA), an institute set up by the labour movement to provide union education and to
support union organizational development.
Edward Bresnyan
Edward Bresnyan obtained a Ph.D. in Food and Resource Economics from the University
of Florida in 1996 and joined the World Bank in 1997, where his work program has
focused on a series of community-based rural poverty reduction projects in Northeast
Brazil. Prior to his tenure at the Bank, Mr. Bresnyan lived and worked for some five years
in Honduras, both as a Peace Corps Volunteer and later, as a trainer to newly recruited
Volunteers. He has also conducted numerous small business training short courses for both
microentrepreneurs and grassroots practitioners throughout Central America. Previously,
Mr. Bresnyan served as the Carter Center Representative to Guyana while working on
President Carter's Global Development Initiative.
Martha Chen
Martha Chen teaches at the Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, and is
Coordinator of Women in Informal Employment Globalizing and Organizing (WIEGO).
An experienced development practitioner and scholar, her areas of specialization are
gender and development, poverty alleviation, and the informal economy. She has resident
experience in Bangladesh working with one of the world's largest non-governmental
organizations (BRAC), and in India where she served as field representative of Oxfam
America for India and Bangladesh. Since joining Harvard in 1987, she has undertaken three
major field studies in India; pursued research on women's role in development; introduced
four new courses on development; served as a Visiting Professor at Radcliffe College;
written or edited six books and numerous articles; provided advisory services to various
donor agencies and non-governmental organizations; and co-founded a research-policy
network in support of workers in the informal economy called WIEGO. Dr. Chen
received a Ph.D. in South Asia Regional Studies from the University of Pennsylvania.
Eve Crowley
Eve Crowley is a Senior Officer with the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United
Nations (FAO) and global Task Manager for Sustainable Agriculture and Rural
Development (SARD), Chapter 14 of Agenda 21. Specializing in rural livelihood
strategies, poverty alleviation, rural institutions and land tenure, she has served on the staff
of the International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) (Rome), the Tropical Soil
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Biology and Fertility Programme and the International Centre for Research in Agroforestry
(ICRAF) (Kenya), as a consultant with the Club du Sahel (Organization of Economic
Cooperation and Development) (France), and has lived and worked in Africa, Asia and
Latin America. She is a graduate of Smith College and received her M.Phil. and Ph.D.
Degrees in Anthropology from Yale University.
Arjan de Haan
Arjan de Haan’s PhD research focused on migrant labour in Calcutta, for which he carried
out archive and field research, in the early 1990s. After that he worked at the Poverty
Research Unit at the University of Sussex. He joined the UK Department for International
Development in 1998, and was posted in India during 2001-04. He will be visiting
professor at the University of Guelph, Canada, during 2005-2006, and is planning to write a
book on social policy.
Joe Devine
Joe is a lecturer in International Development at the University of Bath (UK). He is also
the Bangladesh Country Coordinator for the ESRC Well-being in Developing Countries
Research Programme. Joe has over 15 years research and practitioner experience in South
Asia, and his main research interests lie in civil society organisations, culture and
development, and the interface between people and policy processes in developing
countries.
Joachim De Weerdt
Joachim De Weerdt lives and works in the Kagera Region of Tanzania, where he has
established a research and consultancy company EDI (Economic Development Initiatives).
EDI's Research Arm concentrates on micro-economic development issues. Using both
quantitative and qualitative research methods EDI aims to understand poverty in all its
dimensions and assist in formulating policies to fight it. Social Networks and Informal
Insurance were a subject of his PhD thesis and have remained a research focus at EDI ever
since.
Renana Jhabvala
Renana Jhabvala graduated from Harvard and did her postgraduate studies at Yale. She has
been with SEWA for over 25 years and is presently National Co-ordinator responsible for
spread of SEWA to the national level. She is also Chair of SEWA Bank, President of
SEWA Bharat, and a founder member of WIEGO. Her most recent book was Informal
Economy Centrestage: New Structures of Employment (Sage Publications, 2003) Co-edited
with Ratna Sudarshan and Jeemol Unni.
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Ravi Kanbur
Ravi Kanbur teaches at Cornell University. He is T.H. Lee Professor of World Affairs,
International Professor of Applied Economics and Management, Professor of Economics,
and Director of the Poverty, Inequality and Development Initiative. He has served on the
staff of the World Bank, including as Senior Economic Advisor and as the Chief Economist
for Africa. He is a graduate of Cambridge and did his postgraduate study at Oxford.
Themrise Khan
Themrise Khan has an MSc. in development Management from the London School of
Economics. She has been working in the development sector in Pakistan for almost ten
years in areas of project management and field research in the rural areas in education,
NGO capacity building, and rural livelihoods. Her most recent experience has been
working on devolution and decentralized local government systems with the Asian
Development Bank. She is currently working as a freelance consultant based in Islamabad
and writes regularly for the local press on various social and political issues.
Brett Matthews
Brett Matthews is a partner at Mathwood Consulting Co., specializing in capacity-building,
institutional strengthening and strategic planning for community finance institutions and
their networks/movements. In 2000 he initiated the community finance program at Oxfam
America, and before that managed product development for a mid-sized Toronto credit
union. His most recent paper, Towards Safety & Self Reliance (CCA, 2005) is an
exploration of the challenges facing village women in Cambodia as they struggle to build
institutions that can reliably serve their needs. Brett has an MBA (finance) from Toronto’s
Schulich School of Business and an MA in development studies from the University of
Toronto.
Martin Medina
Martin Medina holds a Ph.D. in Environmental Studies from Yale, an MS in Ecology from
the University of North Carolina, and a BA in Community Development. For nearly 15
years, he has worked on community-based water supply, sanitation, wastewater treatment,
and solid waste management. For his work in these areas, he has received several awards,
including four from the Global Development Network, and finalist awards from the
Bremen Partnership Award and the Dubai Best Practices Awards. He has conducted
research and served as a consultant in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Martin has
published widely on poverty alleviation and environmental protection, including a
forthcoming book on scavenging and sustainable consumption and production.
Nidhi Mirani
Nidhi Mirani works at SEWA Academy in the research unit. She recently graduated from
the Master in Public Policy program at the Kennedy School of Government, Harvard
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University, where she focused on political economy and development. Prior to graduate
study, she worked as a strategy consultant and earned her undergraduate degree in
economics with a concentration in finance from the Wharton School at University of
Pennsylvania.
Pun Ngai
Pun Ngai teaches at the Division of Social Sciences, Hong Kong University of Science and
Technology. She is the founder and the chair of the Chinese Working Women Network, an
NGO working for the betterment of the Chinese migrant women workers. Her book, Made
in China, Women Factory Workers in a Global Workplace (Duke University Press, 2005))
has just come out. She received her PhD. from SOAS, University of London.
Karl Osner
Dr.h.c. Karl Osner, born 1927, German, law studies. 1962-1992 Federal Ministry for
Economic Cooperation and Development (BMZ). Responsibilities: Cooperation with
NGOs and private sector. 1982-1992 Head of special task force of BMZ "Fighting poverty
through the promotion of self-help." NGO activities: 1959-1962 founder of catholic
volunteer service; 1962-1992 founder of the German Commission for Justice and Peace;
1985-2001 founder of the Exposure and Dialogue Programme. Honorary doctorate in
theology of the University of Vallendar.
Carol Richards
Carol Richards is a supporter of economic and social justice with a particular interest in
women's economic development. Memberships include the RAND Health Advisory Board,
Pacific Council on International Relations, and the Board of Human Rights Watch Los
Angeles. She has a Ph.D. in Anthropology from UCLA .
Sally Roever
Sally Roever recently completed a Ph.D. in political science at the University of California
at Berkeley, where she specialized in Latin American politics, comparative politics, and
research methods. Her dissertation, entitled Negotiating Formality: Informal Sector,
Market, and the State in Peru, explores ongoing conflicts between street traders and local
governments in Lima. The dissertation shows that street vendors belie the conventional
dichotomous concept of formality/informality; rather, they are engaged in a constant
process of negotiating the terms of their formality with the state. Roever has served as
Visiting Instructor at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia and a
consultant to the UN Project on Human Settlements in Nairobi, Kenya. Her other current
research projects include a collaborative multi-country study of the emerging associationbased interest regime in Latin America, and a collaborative project on techniques for
sampling mobile and marginal populations.
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Jan Theron
After studying law at the University of Cape Town Jan Theron became involved in the
emergent trade union movement. He was for twelve years General Secretary of the Food
and Canning Workers Union, which subsequently became the Food and Allied Workers
Union, and a founder member of South Africa's leading trade union federation. Since 1993
he practises as a labour attorney as well as co-ordinating a research project in the Law
Faculty of the University of Cape Town, focused on labour standards in a developing
economy.
Edward T. Walker
Edward T. Walker is a doctoral candidate at Pennsylvania State University. His
collaborative work on poor people’s social movement organizations (with John D.
McCarthy) recently appeared in Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly, and now
includes a follow-up study which tracks the survival of a sample of such organizations in
the United States over a fourteen-year span. His review of a study of development and
democratization in Africa is forthcoming in Contemporary Sociology, and his dissertation
research on social movement institutionalization and grassroots lobbying was recently
awarded a Doctoral Dissertation Research Improvement Grant by the U.S. National
Science Foundation.
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Acknowledgements
We acknowledge the great support of Namrata Bali and SEWA Academy in helping to
organize the EDP program. While SEWA Academy has organized over twenty exposure
dialogue programs in recent years, this MBOP EDP was the largest program the Academy
has worked with. Special thanks are due to Sapnaben Raval and Renukaben Trivedi for
coordinating all the logistics and facilitators. All parts of SEWA, urban and rural, including
cooperatives, the union, health services, and financial services contributed staff to act as
facilitators, identified host ladies, and provided transport. Their contribution and
cooperation made the EDP a smooth process and they served as the bridge between the host
ladies and the participants.
Finally, we acknowledge the kind financial support of the Broad Reach Foundation,
without which this project could not have been undertaken.
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